Of Wolf and Man
by LadyEmmy
Summary: Sequel to Death Reapers In Louisiana, Dean and Sam Winchester once again meet up with the Callum girls while in search of something that is lurking in the Bayou.Disclaimer While Evan and Kit Callum belong to me, Sam and Dean Winchester are the property


_**Prologue**_

**_New Orleans, Louisiana_**

"Come on you pansies!"

The four young men panted heavily as they looked up at the man standing in front of them and glared at him. They had been hiking through the deep woods of the Louisiana bayou for six hours now and the moon was riding high in the sky. They were tired, mosquito-bitten and had their fair share of scratches and scrapes from various encounters with the local plant life. When the whistle sounded again, they realized they were really beginning to hate the damned thing, but their Drill Sergeant didn't seem to notice that little fact as he blew it at them again.

"Just one more mile and then we will make camp for the night," he said to the boys.

"What's wrong with right here Sir?" one of them asked. He took a deep breath and put his hands on his hips tiredly. "We're in a clearing, and that looks to be fresh water. Why not make camp right here."

"Because grunt," the Sergeant said, coming over to the man and putting an arm around his shoulder and pulled him none-too-gently forward. Waving his hand around he said. "This here is an animal watering hole. All the little critters will be coming down to have their nightly drink. Which means that the crocs around here are going to be looking for dinner. If we stay here, we're going to be the main course. Now I don't know about you, Roger Ramjet, but I would rather not become dinner. Now," he said softly, looking at the young soldier, then yelled in his face. "Fall in!"

"It's your fault we're here," one young man said to the first that had just fallen back into place. He could have been back in the barracks in a somewhat comfortable bed, eating something that actually resembled food not shoe leather, and maybe, just maybe earned back some of the privileges that he had lost by sneaking out for a cigarette with these losers.

"Stow it!" The drill Sergeant ordered, as the four shouldered their heavy packs. He turned his back on them and then started making his way through the underbrush. He smiled slightly to himself as he heard the groans of the four youths.

Fed up with the boys' disobedience, their parents had sent them to the Juvenile Camp Program. Within the first week, they had been busted breaking a number of rules. Their punishment: A twenty mile hike through the bayou, with an ex-army drill Sergeant. Oh, were they going to complain to their parents when they got back. One of them, a lawyer's son, was sure that there had to be some law that the camp was breaking.

The attack when it came, was swift and vicious. With barely a sound, the last boy was grabbed out of line and dragged into the underbrush. It was his sudden painful scream that made the others stop and look around.

"What the hell?" the Sergeant muttered. "McCarry! McCarry get your ass out here boy!" McCarrey clambered out of the underbrush, his face and clothing ripped and covered in blood.

"Holy shit!" One of the boys shouted, looking at what had been left of his friend. "Sarge!" Turning, he saw the dark form come hurtling out through the bushes and land on the Sergeant. The large figure lowered it's massive head and the Sergeant screamed, then went silent but for a sickening gurgling sound.

The three remaining boys looked at the body of their Sergeant laying on the ground covered almost completely by the large shadow. When it swung its massive head towards them, two bright points of yellow blazing at them, the boys didn't hang around. Dropping their packs, they scattered through the trees with a scream. Barreling through the tree's and underbrush, one boy headed back the way they had come. He heard the rough panting behind him and began to cry as he ran. His body suddenly lurched forward as he was hit from behind. His body dragged along the ground until he ran head first into a tree stump. The impact snapped his neck and silenced him forever.

The shadow leapt off of the unmoving body and then perked up, listening intently. With a snarl, it took off through the woods, following the scent of the other two. It caught up to them easily, snarling as it leaped onto the smaller one. Bringing its head down, the figure sank razor sharp teeth into the arms that had raised up in a feeble attempt at protection. The taste of blood filled its mouth and its eyes flared.

Pushing off of the still body, the shadow bounded through the woods, peering through the brush in a haze of bloodlust. It heard the movements in the woods. The crash of breaking branches, the whimpers and cries as the boy became disoriented in the dark woods. The figures lips curled and it took off towards the sound. With a snarl, it caught the boy from behind, sending him sprawling to the ground. He screamed in sheer terror as the figure clamped the long teeth around his head. He could hear his own bones crunching. It was over in moments. The figure shook its massive head, the boy's slender body swinging around like a rag doll.

Hearing a sound, the shadow tossed aside the lifeless body and then loped off through the woods. The boy's body lay there in the woods, the full moonlight shining down on the empty brown eyes.

_**Chapter One**_

Sam stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel low around his hips. Taking the other towel, he rubbed his wet hair with it then dropped it around his shoulders. Leaning over the sink, he turned on the warm water and uncapped the toothpaste. A faint noise from the bedroom caught his attention over the water gurgling in the sink, and his hand paused while he listened. "Dean? Is that you?" Opening the bathroom door, he looked around the room. Nothing there, he shook his head.

He could have sworn he'd heard something. Too many late nights, too much tension and not enough sleep, he decided, was making him hear things. Glancing at his watch laying on the counter top, Sam saw that it was only midnight. Dean was out hunting down some quick cash by hustling pool. Sam had decided to come back to the motel to wash away some of the travel dust. They had driven ten hours straight, and his muscles were protesting the length of time cooped up in the car. And a hot shower was the best thing for him.

Quickly brushing his teeth, he walked back into the motel room and grabbed a pair of boxer briefs. Pulling them on under the towel, he tossed it onto the bed and was about to pull a shirt over his head when he was tackled from behind and thrown onto the bed. He grabbed the knife that Dean always kept under the pillow. It was wrestled from his hand. Whatever had attacked him stayed on him only long enough to whisper softly in his ear, "Too slow," then bite sharply at the lobe and move away. The knife landed on the bed nearby.

Rolling, he sat up and moved into a defensive position. Relief rushed through him when he saw the figure sitting in one of the chairs by the doorway. "What the hell are you doing? I could have killed you!" He demanded sharply, dropping the knife to his side.

"You're slipping Sammy," Kit said from her seat, a wry smile on her face.

He looked around, "Where's your sister?"

"She got a straight job at the bar waiting tables. She'll be there until closing," Kit said. "Where's Dean?"

"He's playing pool," Sam told her.

"So what brings you to Louisiana?" Kit leaned back in the chair.

"Actually, we got a text message of coordinates from our father. He sent us here. What are you two doing here?"

"There's evil afoot," Kit replied with a grin. "Think New Orleans can handle us working together again?"

"Tennessee did. Kind of," Sam smiled at Kit. It had been six months since they had first crossed paths with the girls. They had talked a few times on the phone and had sent each other a few emails, but things had been so busy that they had never had much time to really talk. Looking at Kit now, Sam was glad that they were there. He'd found that he had missed her. Now Dean on the other hand might have different thoughts on the matter.

"You hustled us boy," came the voice from behind Dean as he walked around the back of the bar where the Impala was parked. Sam had headed back to the motel a few hours earlier, leaving Dean to lift some hard earned cash from the guys in the pool hall. Now he was wishing that he had Sammy at his back.

Pasting a charming smile on his face, he turned to face the four guys that he had just spent the past few hours hustling. "Gentlemen, hustle is such an ugly word. Appropriate, but ugly."

"City slicker here thinks he can get away with taking our money," one of the guys, said to his buddies alongside him.

"Dude," Dean began, thinking quickly. "I know it seems bad, and yes, I did hustle you. But believe me, I had a really good reason for doing it." They needed the cash, he thought to himself, but didn't think that this bunch of good ole boys would take kindly to that.

"Start talkin' city boy," one of the other guys said.

"It's kind of embarrassing," Dean stalled, trying to come up with something quickly. When the four of them took a step towards him, their hands curled into large fists, he took a deep breath. Putting his hands on his hips, he felt something bump his hand. Glancing down, he saw the hilt of the serpentine dagger in the sheath tucked into his waistband. An image of red hair, green eyes streaked through his mind. "You ever meet a girl that's too good to be true?"

"Ain't no such thing," one of them said.

"Oh boys," Dean sucked in a breath and shook his head. "This girl was. Long red hair, green eyes that you could drown in. Legs that could bring a man to tears," he said, letting his face grow wistful.

"Don't know too many girls like that," the first one said.

"Evangeline," Dean said her name almost reverently.

"Isn't that a saints name?" One of them questioned.

"I thought this girl should have been one," Dean said to them, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "But I found out the hard way that she wasn't. I swear boys, the girl was a pro."

The four men looked at him for a moment and then burst into laughter when they realized the meaning of his words. "City boy got himself suckered by a floozy," they crowed.

Clenching his jaw tight, he hung his head in mock shame. "Yeah I did. And she cleaned me out. Took my wallet and everything. I had to find a way to lay my hands on some quick cash so I can get home. See why it was embarrassing?" Dean said sheepishly." He had to force himself to say the rest. "Here, take it back. I'll find my way home some other way."

"Shoot boy," one of the guys said. "Keep it. Sounds like you need it."

"Boy, if a woman seems to good to be true, she probably is," one of the guys said to him. "Long legs are nothing to get your head turned around about."

Dean waved his hand. "I'll keep that in mind," he told them as they walked away laughing at him. He smiled smugly to himself. He was up a wad of cash and had bluffed his way out of what could have been a nasty beating. All was right with the world.

The tap on his shoulder came as a surprise. Pasting a smile on his face, he turned. And walked into a right cross to the jaw. Pain flared through his head, his legs crumbled beneath him and he went down to the pavement. Shaking his head, he rubbed the back of his hand over his split lip, tasting blood. Looking up, he frowned as the light glared in his eyes. He could see someone standing there, a ring of red around their head. For just a moment he thought that something had finally caught up with him.

"First I'm crazy. Now I'm a pro?" asked a familiar voice.

"Hey Evan," Dean said weakly with a smile. "How ya been?"

Evan reached a hand down to Dean and pulled him up. As he stood on his feet before her, a wobbly smile on his face, she shook her head.

"Winchester, I oughta smack you senseless," she said to him in disgust.

"You damn near did," he muttered, spitting the blood from his mouth. "That hurt woman!"

"Aw, did the big bad demon hunter get hurt by the itty bitty girl?" She mocked him, brushing past him and going over to the Impala. Pulling open the door, she climbed in.

Dean stalked over to the car and looked in the open window at her. "What are you doing?"

"Kit has my car. You're taking me back to the motel," she told him imperiously.

"What did your last chauffeur die of?" He snapped at her, but climbed into the car any way.

"A stake to the heart," she replied with a sweet smile, not missing a beat

"Woman," he began, but stopped when Evan slipped her hand over his cheek and turned his head to hers. She pressed her mouth against his in a quick kiss. When she went to pull her head back from his, Dean slid his fingers into her hair and cupped the back of her head, holding her mouth to his. He teased his tongue along her bottom lip and then pushed into her mouth. She moaned softly and let him in. Long moments later, she pulled her head back, breathing heavily.

"Nice to see you too," she grinned mischievously.

_**Chapter Two**_

Pulling the Impala into the parking lot of the motel, Dean turned off the engine and pushed open the door, reaching into the back seat for bag of take out that he had stopped to get. Evan climbed out behind him and followed him to the motel room door. He started to open the door and then stopped, looked at her.

"Where are you going?" He asked her.

Pulling her sparkly purple cell phone out of her pocket she flipped it open and paged through the text messages, then showed him the one from Kit. "Found Sam."

"Kit's in there waiting for me," she said smiling, taking the bag from him and brushing past him into the motel room.

She found her sister sitting on one bed, looking through a pad of paper on her lap. Sam sat at the table, typing on the computer. Evan raised an eyebrow at her sister and looked at her face. She had lectured her sister on how easy she was to read, but it looked like Kit had taken her words to heart. Evan couldn't tell anything from the look on her face.

"Honey, we're home," Dean said from behind her. "And what have you two kids been up to?"

"Hunting evil," Kit replied.

"Yeah, she gets to hunt evil, I get smacked on the ass by loudmouthed, horny drunks," Evan muttered. She rubbed her ass and sat down on the empty bed. "I'm gonna have a bruise tomorrow."

"How were tips?" Kit asked her, ignoring the slightly pouty look on Evan's face.

"You have to be nice to the customers to get tips," Dean said, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it on the bed before sitting down on one of the hard chairs.

"I was nice," Evan retorted. "I bet I made a lot more in tips by letting them smack my ass then you did hustling pool."

"Sweetheart, you don't know how much I can make hustling pool," Dean replied, pulling out a wad of cash and proceeding to count it out.

"Oh please," Evan returned. "A flash of a smile, a little cleavage and a sway of the hips, and those guys would be willing to give me anything I wanted."

Dean made a face at her, "Whatever."

Kit and Sam looked at each other, shaking their heads and smiling. "Do you want to know what we found out while you two were off playing?" Sam looked at his brother and Evan patiently waiting for them to start acting their ages.

"What I want to know is why we got coordinates from Dad to come here," Dean said, putting his feet up on the edge of the bed. He glared when Evan pushed them off. "My bed means that my feet can go wherever I want them," he said.

"This is why we are here," Kit tapped a few buttons on her laptop and turned it to show it to Evan and Dean.

Evan shivered a moment as Dean moved his legs off the chair and leaned towards the computer. She could smell the faintest hint of masculine musk, dirt and stale smoke off of him. She tried to shrug off the slow curl it generated in her stomach, comforting as it was He needed a shower, she told herself firmly. Focusing on the article her sister had brought up, she read aloud.

"The body of one young male was discovered in Cohuna Parish outside of New Orleans earlier this week. Not too far from the desecrated remains," Evan glanced at her sister, one fine red eyebrow quirking up, "Another youth was discovered hiding. The teen, name being withheld, was transported to the Sisters of Grace hospital for life threatening injuries. Local authorities will be expected to question him once stabilized."

"That story is a month old," Dean said, reading over Evan's shoulder.

"Wild animal attack?" Evan questioned them.

"The local authorities are saying that it was a crocodile attack," Sam told Evan and Dean when they looked at him.

"Keep reading," Kit said to them.

Sighing, Dean continued. "The youths, members of the Juvenile Camp Program, were in the Louisiana bayou as part of a disciplinary action. Former drill sergeant Arthur "Art" Marius was leading the group of four boys on a two day camp out when the tragedy struck. The bodies of Marius and the other two boys have not been recovered."

Dean shook his head. "Still not getting it Sammy. Why is this our kind of gig?"

"I have to agree with Dean," Evan looked at them both. "An animal attack, terrible as it is, it's not our kind of thing."

"Marius was born here in Louisiana and spent his summers working at his uncle's fishing business. There are stories in the archives of him wrestling crocodiles. If it was a croc attack, he'd know what to do," Sam explained, tapping buttons on his own laptop flipping through the different articles that they had found.

"Then we found this buried in the paper," Kit said, turning the computer to tap quickly over the keys, then swivelled it back for them to see. "Three days after the boy was found in the woods, he was almost completely healed. He was released to his parents care, despite the doctors concerns over mental health. Seems the boy was telling stories of a large, animalian figure with glowing eyes that came out of no-where and attacked them all. The sheriff and deputies searched the area, but found no tracks."

"Huh," Dean said, sitting back in his chair. "A croc would definitely leave tracks."

"And they don't have glowing eyes," Evan said.

"Sam and I looked back through the obits," Kit said. "Nothing really popped out. One or two disappearances a month over the past ten years. All out of towners. No one local."

"Until these ones," Dean surmised.

"Yeah. And there has been an increase. Over the past six months, a total of fifty six missing people. Again, until last month, none of them locals."

Evan looked at the date of the first article, and tuned out the voices of the others. Tapping idly on the keyboard, she paged through the other articles.

"Kit and I think that we might have narrowed it down to three possibilities," Sam said, flipping open a large book to a place that he had marked off. "One being a Jersey Devil." He passed Dean the book.

"I've never heard of a Devil being this far south before," Dean said as he skimmed the page of the book.

"Neither had I," Kit agreed. "But with environmental encroachment these days, maybe they're being displaced."

"Good theory," Dean said. He glanced at Evan. He saw that she had twisted her hair up into a bun and stabbed a pencil through it to hold it in place. Dean caught sight of the tattoo on her neck, which brought back memories of the first time he'd seen the mark, and he shifted in his seat. Now was not the time to think about that. He reluctantly pushed them aside and turned his attention back to his brother and Kit.

"We then thought hellhound, or black dog," Kit said, coming off the bed to flip through the book on Deans lap. "A large black dog with luminous red eyes and sulphuric odor."

"They primarily haunt Europe, don't they?" He questioned them, once again glancing at Evan. "Hey, Princess, are you paying attention here?" He reached over and poked her in the shoulder. Evan reached back and gave Dean a swat in the leg, going back to her screen. She pulled the pencil from her hair and wrote something down.

"Yes, Hell hounds are mostly in Europe. But there have been cases where they have latched onto a person and followed them," Sam said to his brother.

"The only other thing we can think of is- ," Kit began, but was cut off.

"A werewolf," Evan whispered.

"A werewolf," Kit finished.

"We're dealing with a werewolf," Evan said again, almost in awe. They had never gone up against a werewolf before.

"Okay, where did that come from?" Dean said when Evan turned.

"Sorry," Evan said to Kit for cutting her off. "I was looking through the obits that you guys found, and noticed something interesting. So I tracked back the past six months. The people that went missing, all disappeared around the full moon. More specifically the night before, the night of and the night after, which," she took the book from Dean's lap and flipped through it to find the section on Werewolves, "From lore is when the werewolves change and are most powerful."

"So if the kid that survived was bit by the werewolf," Sam began.

"It would explain why he healed fast enough to be released in three days. Werewolves are said to be quick healers," Kit finished.

"Guys, if it was a werewolf that got that kid, than this will be the first full moon cycle after the attack," Evan said.

"Tomorrow night is the night before the full moon," Dean said frowning. "If he's going to change into Teen Wolf, tomorrow night is it."

"He won't be changing," Kit said sadly. "He committed suicide two days ago."

"Anything in the lore about Werewolves being like zombies?" At the strange looks at he received from them, Dean continued. "The legend of the werewolf says that if you are bit by one, you become one. If he was getting ready to howl at the moon tomorrow, how can we be sure that he's really dead? That because of the change, he will stay dead?"

"There's nothing in the lore that I can remember that would suggest that," Kit said, but took the book and started flipping through it anyway, searching.

"Dammit," Evan hung her head, then looked up at Kit. "We don't know. There's so much about Weres that isn't known." She muttered under her breath. "We need to get in to see that body."

"We need to go see the family, talk to them about the kid," Sam said.

"Yay, trip to the morgue," Kit said, looking discomforted.

"I miss school," Sam muttered.

_**Chapter Three**_

The girls went back to their room on the other side of the motel a few hours later. As soon as Kit was inside the room , Evan slammed the door and leaned against it, folding her arms across her chest, and looked at her sister.

Feeling her sister's eyes on her, Kit turned around, "What?"

"You know what," Evan said. "I was stuck at that bar all night long. You texted me at eight o'clock. That was five hours from the time that you found him, to the time Dean and I got there. You really expect me to believe that all you did was research?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I expect you to believe," Kit answered, throwing her purse down on the bed and putting her hands on her hips.

"I'm not buying it Sis," Evan told her. Kit tried to smile, but it just came out sheepishly. "Oh that's nice. I'm working my fingers to the bone, getting my ass slapped and pinched by lecherous drunks, and you're getting your jollies. He better have been worth it," Evan muttered good-naturedly when Kit smiled.

"You know Sis," Kit said as Evan walked passed her towards the bathroom. "You got off work over an hour ago. You and Dean give the backseat of his Impala another workout?"

Kit ducked the pair of socks that Evan threw at her. "Bitch."

"Yup," Kit answered, laughing. "Seriously though."

"Nothing happened. I was catching up with him at the car, he was confronted by four guys that he'd hustled. I punched him and then we went to get dinner." Kit quirked an eyebrow at her. "Okay, we had one little kiss," Evan said turning red a little more. "That turned into two. But that was all."

"Evan," Kit began, a concerned look coming over her face.

"So, a werewolf," Evan broke in, digging through her bag, effectively cutting off what Kit was going to say. "Silver bullets, we've got. We should stock up on monkshood and make some scapulas," Evan said, thinking of the small pouches they'd used before to hold herbs for various magickal purposes.

Kit looked at her sister wanting to say something, but decided against it. "I'll hit the shops tomorrow and see if I can find some."

"It's toxic, the flower shop probably won't sell it," Evan reminded her.

"Some of the occult shops in the Quarter might," Kit said, sitting down on the bed.

Evan emptied the pocket she had sown into the inside of her jeans onto the bed and than sat down on the edge, gathering up the crumpled bills. It has been bar policy that all tips went into a jar and were then divvied up among the waitresses after closing, but throughout the night, Evan had slipped a lot of her tips into the hidden pocket.

"I had a better night than I thought," she said a few minutes later. "Two hundred and twenty in tips."

"It's the red hair" Kit smiled, stripping out of her jeans and t-shirt and slipping into a worn t-shirt and climbing into bed.

"No, it's the mini-skirt and push up bra," Evan retorted. "God, I smell like smoke and," she sniffed, frowning. "I don't want to know what else that is," she dug through her bag and pulled out a shirt then headed into the bathroom for a quick shower. When she came out, dressed in a shirt that she had filched from Dean in Tennessee, she found Kit asleep with their grandmother's old mythology book open on her lap. Smiling, Evan carefully took the book from her and set it on the night stand.

"Sis," she whispered softly. "Scooch down." Kit sleepily obeyed and slipped down on the bed. Evan pulled the blankets up over her little sister and then sat back on the bed watching her for a moment. Kit looked so relaxed, more so than she had seen her in a long time. And she knew that Sam had something to do with it.

While she was happy for her sister, she was also worried for her. The life they led held few promises beyond perhaps an early, ugly death. Evan idly brushed the pad of her thumb over the scar on her ribs where a vampire had gotten her with his sword. It hadn't been enough to kill her, but it did serve as a reminder of how quickly things could go wrong. Looking at her sister again, she hoped that things didn't go wrong for her and Sam. She liked seeing the smile on Kit's face.

"Go to sleep Evan," Kit mumbled at her, opening one violet blue eye and then reaching out for the light on the bed stand.

"I'm going," Evan said with a smile. She climbed under the covers and settled in. Kit then flipped off the light.

"You sly dog," Dean said once the girls had left.

Sam looked up from the lap top. "What?"

"Turning a hunt into a booty call," Dean sat down on the bed and pulled his boots off with a grin. "I couldn't have done better myself Sammy. You're learning."

"Dean, it wasn't a booty call," Sam said to him, shutting off the computer.

"Whatever," Dean retorted. He stripped off his shirt and tossed it into his bag. Pulling the wad of cash from his pocket, he quickly flipped through it. Six hundred. Not bad for a night's work. "Are you going to tell me that you and Kit didn't," he left the rest unsaid.

"I'm not discussing this with you," Sam replied.

"Sammy, come on. You have a thing for Kit."

"Dean, I don't have a thing for Kit," Sam denied, but even to his own ears, it sounded weak.

"Sam, you remember that cute little blond back in Terre Haute last week?"

"Her name was Natasha," Sam interjected.

"Yeah, her. She was seriously crushing on you dude," Dean waved his hand at Sam. "What do you think she was doing when she asked you to come in for coffee?"

"She was just grateful that we got rid of the spirit in her house," Sam clarified.

"She didn't invite me in," Dean pointed out. "She wanted you Sam, and what did you do? You said no and then got in the car and sent a message to Kit. You've got it bad," Dean said.

"Dean," Sam began.

"Sam, it's okay. I doubt Jess would expect you to be alone forever."

"This has nothing to do with Jess," Sam said irritably.

"Yes it does. You feel guilty because you're moving on," Dean told him.

"When did you get so smart?"

"You don't have to be a college boy to be smart," Dean smirked.

"So what about you and Evan?" Sam quirked an eyebrow at him.

"What about Evan? She's nuts. She punched me," Dean said, pointing to the bruise on his jaw.

"I saw the way you were looking at her tonight," Sam said to his brother, smiling. "You missed her too."

"I did not. She was the last thing on my mind," Dean retorted sharply.

"Oh really," Sam drawled, then reached under Dean's pillow, to grab the small notebook from underneath and flipped through the pages. "For the past seven weeks you've been drawing this cross and rose on every scrap of paper you could find. I didn't know what it was about until I saw this same design tattooed on Evan's neck tonight."

"That has nothing to do with her." Grabbing the book back from Sam, he closed it and threw it in his bag.

"Yeah. Whatever," Sam replied with a shake of his head.

"I'm going to take a shower." Rising from the bed, Dean grabbed a pair of boxer briefs and went into the bathroom. Once behind the closed door, Dean frowned. As much as he hated to admit, his brother was right. He had been happy to see Evan. Until she'd decked him.

But it would be nice to have help on this hunt.

_**Chapter Four**_

"What is taking him so long?" Evan questioned, sitting on one of the hard chairs in Sam and Dean's motel room. She crossed one leg over her knee and shifted uncomfortably. Dean was in the bathroom fussing with something while the three of them sat and waited for him. "Would you hurry up already?" she shouted at him through the closed door, frowning when she heard a muttered reply.

"Evan doesn't like wearing skirts," Kit whispered to Sam, reaching over and picking a piece of lint from the shoulder of his suit.

"It's not that I don't like wearing them," Evan clarified. "It's that I thought I'd never have to wear one again. I left that world behind."

"What world?" Sam asked her.

"I was working as an intern at a law office," Evan explained. "Yeah, a regular nine-to-five job," she laughed when she saw the look on his face.

"And then she chucked it all, bought her car and headed out on the road," Kit finished.

"I saw the murderers, rapists and other wackjobs that the firm was getting off on technicalities and decided that I liked hunting demons better. They made more sense to me."

"Mom and Dad weren't impressed. But they've come to accept it. Kind of."

"What about you?" Sam turned to Kit who was sitting beside him on the bed. "Did you have a nine to five job?"

Kit shook her head, "I was going to school, halfway through my degree in corporate finance. Evan came home for a visit, and when she left, I went with her. Haven't looked back since. But I do miss Angela."

"Who's Angela?" Sam asked, confused.

"Our baby sister," Kit told him. "She's a total skeptic. She thinks we're nuts."

"Sometimes I wonder if we aren't. Especially when we're stuck waiting for people to finish in the bathroom." Rising from her chair, Evan knocked on the door. "Dean, tempus fugit."

The door flew open under her hand and she jumped back as a very uncomfortable looking Dean stepped out of the bathroom. Evan forced herself not to stare, but it wasn't easy. The black suit fit his lean frame perfectly. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep the grin from coming to her lips.

"I feel like I'm going to a funeral," he muttered as he passed her.

"Dean doesn't like wearing suits," Sam said, grinning.

"I never would have guessed," Evan said.

"But he looks good in one," Kit piped up from the bed, stifling a giggle when Dean shot her a dirty look.

Having grabbed the box that he kept in the glove compartment of the Impala earlier, Dean opened it and flipped through the contents inside. He held a card out to Sam. "The Center for Disease Control?" He looked at his brother, "Think that will get us in?"

"The CDC investigates wild animal attacks to track animal to human rabies transmission rates," Kit told him. "It wouldn't be unusual for them to send someone to check out this attack."

"I made this for you," Dean said as he handed Evan a laminated card.

"Dr. Gillian Scully of the CDC," she read the card. "Do I look like a Gillian?"

Dean declined to answer as he handed Kit a card. "Dr. Samantha Fox," she said, then looked at him. "What did you do? Catch an episode of The X-Files on the late night review?"

"Yeah I did actually, only it wasn't the X-Files I thought it was going to be," Dean said wiggling his eyebrows lewdly. Kit and Evan both groaned and Sam just shook his head at his brother. "Got an address for the kid's house?" Dean asked them.

"I got it off the net. It's not too far from here," Kit answered, rising from the bed, Kit went to stand beside Sam. "So Sam and I hit the mother's house, and you and Dean go to the morgue?"

"Actually I was thinking Sammy and I could hit the morgue," Evan interjected. Seeing the look on Kit's face, she continued. "I need someone who can back me up at the morgue. Technical terms and such."

"What makes you think I couldn't do that?" Dean questioned her irritably.

"What's a subdural hematoma?" Evan asked him sweetly as Dean thought for a moment.

"Sam, you go with Evan," Kit said while Dean pondered. "Come on Dean, looks like we're going to the kid's house." Grabbing the arm of Dean's suit coat, Kit tugged him out of the hotel room and out to the Impala.

When the door shut behind her sister and Dean, Evan gave Sam a smile. She eyed the way the dark suit hung on his lean frame and had to admit that her sister definitely had good taste in men.

But there was just one thing that was nagging at her. "Who taught you to tie a tie Sam?" she asked, walking over to him and untying the perfectly knotted tie. Working the silky material into a knot, she then hitched it up tight enough around his neck to make him gasp and dragged him down to her eye level.

"Sam, I like you. My sister likes you. I think you might be exactly what she needs right now. But let me just tell you this, if you hurt my sister, you and I are going to be taking a long walk in the woods with a shovel. And trust me, I will be hiking out alone. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," Sam gasped, straightening when she released him, patting his tie into place neatly.

"Good. Now, let's go to the morgue." Evan said with a chipper smile. She grabbed her beg and walked out of the motel room, Sam following a safe distance behind her.

"This looks like the place," Dean said as he pulled up in front of the large white clapboard house. Looking over the house, Dean gave a shudder. "Welcome to Suburbia."

"There's nothing wrong with Suburbia. My sisters and I grew up in a house like this."

"You did?" Dean couldn't picture it. "Wait, there's another one of you?" He shook his head. 'Great, another crazy Callum sister.'

"Angela's not like us, but yes, we did. It's not as bad as you make it sound," Kit said to him.

"Tell that to these folks," he remarked as they climbed out of the car and walked up the path to the front door. Kit paused before knocking on the door.

"Mrs. McCarrey?" She asked softly when the front door opened to reveal a small, slender blond woman with a tear stained face.

"Yes?" She sniffled, wiping her eyes with her hands.

"I'm Dr. Samantha Fox and this is my colleague," Kit motioned to Dean.

"Dr. Kirk Hammett," he said, keeping his voice low.

"We're with the Center for Disease Control," Kit said, flashing the fake ID at the woman. "I realize that this is a bad time, but I was wondering if we could ask you a few questions about your son."

"Of course," she said, stepping aside and letting them in.

"Why would the Center for Disease Control want to know about my son?" The woman asked, confusion coloring her words as she led them into the perfectly decorated living room and motioned for them to sit down on the sofa. "My son committed," she choked back a small sob. "Suicide."

"Actually Mrs. McCarrey, we're investigating the original attack," Kit said gently.

"The crocodile attack?"

"Yes Ma'am," Dean said.

"I don't know what to tell you," she said tearfully.

"Anything you can tell us would be helpful," Kit said softly.

"It was supposed to be a disciplinary trip. Kevin and his friends got into trouble at the camp," Mrs. McCarrey told them. "They were supposed to be there for just a few days."

"When they found your son, did he say anything about what attacked them?"

"Not at first, he was barely conscious. But then, the things he was saying. Strange things. Awful things."

"Like what?" urged Dean as he sat forward in his seat.

"He said that it came out of nowhere. A huge dog, or wolf. I don't know. He was incoherent."

"Once Kevin was released, did you notice any unusual behavior?" Kit asked the woman.

"What do you mean?" Mrs. McCarrey shook her head.

"Emotional outbursts. Sensitivity to light? Sounds? Smells? Tastes?" Kit questioned her.

"Kevin was always an emotional child," she paused. "Actually, he did hang a blanket up over his window to make it darker. And he started cooking his own dinner, said that mine was over done."

"Do you know how he cooked it?" Dean questioned, thinking that he might already know the answer.

"It was disgusting, he hardly cooked it at all. I kept telling him that he was going to get sick." Mrs. McCarrey frowned and looked at them. "Is that made him do this? Do you think he got sick?"

"We're not sure Ma'am, but it is a possibility we are pursuing," Dean told her.

"Mrs. McCarrey, would you mind if Dr. Hammett and I took a look at Kevin's room? It would be helpful to our investigation," Kit added when she saw the apprehensive look on her face.

"I haven't cleaned it up since Kevin," she paused, taking a deep breath.

"It's okay Mrs. McCarrey, I'm used to things like that. You should see his office," Kit said to her, pointing at Dean, who had the grace to look sheepish.

"It's this way," the woman said, taking them to a doorway at the back of the house that led to the basement. As she opened the door, the phone rang. "Oh," she said, torn, looking at them and then towards the ringing phone.

"It's okay Ma'am, you can answer that," Dean told her.

"Are you sure?"

"We won't be too long. We just want to take a quick look around," Kit told her, comforting the woman.

Mrs. McCarrey turned and walked into the kitchen, leaving Dean and Kit to walk down the stairs into the basement that had been turned into a large bedroom. They searched for the light switch on the wall and flipped it on.

"Oh my god," Kit breathed in dismay. The walls were covered with crudely rendered drawings of a large wolf-like creature. She pulled one down and stared at it. "Okay, I would have to say that Kevin didn't believe it was a croc attack either."

Dean shook his head. "I don't think so." He went over to the desk and began riffling through the stacks of papers on it. He pulled out one and looked at it. "Either Kevin was doing research on how to snow his parents, or he knew something they didn't," he said, handing her the paper.

Kit looked it over. "Evan and I use this site a lot during our research."

"So does Sammy," Dean told her. Picking up another sheet of paper, he tilted it to the light. "Kevin was looking at some of the same articles that you were," Dean told her. "This is the same obit that you showed Evan and me."

"We need to find out where exactly they were attacked. That would give us a point of reference," Kit said.

"I think I have it," Dean said as he glanced around. On the wall behind them was a large map of the parish and surrounding area. Marked on the map in red was the trail from the camp to where the group was attacked.

"Perfect," Kit said. She dug in her bag and pulled out a digital camera. Taking a quick picture of area she looked at Dean, "I think we should get out of here. Sam and Evan should be done at the morgue soon. And we need to stop in the Quarter to find some Monkshood."

"After you Dr. Fox," Dean said and then followed her up the stairs. Despite himself, Dean couldn't help but watch the long line of her legs as she went up the stairs. The high heels accentuated her ankles and the sheer stockings made him inhale slowly, shaking his head. His brother was one lucky dog.

"Coming Doctor?" Kit said from the top of the stairs. He followed up behind her and walked into the kitchen where they found Mrs. McCarrey sitting at the kitchen table, clutching a mug of tea.

"Mrs. McCarrey, we appreciate you letting us look around," Kit said to her softly.

"Were you able to find anything that will help you?" She asked weakly.

"Yes Ma'am, we did," Dean told her.

"Do you think you'll catch the thing that attacked my boy?"

"We're going to try Ma'am," Kit told her as Mrs. McCarrey stood up and showed them to the front door.

"Ma'am, could you tell us what happened to your son? How he," Dean trailed off.

"He shot himself. In the heart. He took his grandfather's antique pistol, he kind that uses the ball instead of a bullet. Made the ball himself."

"He did?"

"Yes. From a silver chain and pendant from my jewelry box."

Dean and Kit didn't say anything until they got out to the Impala.

"Kevin knew what he was turning into and killed himself," Kit said, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

"I hope Sammy and your sister find out something at the morgue," Dean said as he put the car in gear and pulled away from the house.

_**Chapter Five**_

"Can I help you?" The young man looked up from the papers on the front desk when the front door to the coroner's office opened, the hot breeze from the outside flooding in.

He paled slightly when he saw the two people standing there dressed in black suits. The redhead would have been a looker if she'd take her hair out of the severe looking bun riding low on her neck the kid thought idly to himself as they walked up to him.

"I'm Dr. Gillian Scully with the Center for Disease Control," she said sternly, flashing the fake ID with confidence.

Taking Evan's lead, Sam flashed his own ID. "I'm Dr. Alex Lifeson."

"What's the Center for Disease Control want with us?" The kid asked them.

"We're here to see Dr. Dupre," Evan said stiffly. "We were told that he was the head coroner here."

"Head coroner? Lady, he's the only coroner."

"Then we would appreciate you telling us where he is," Evan said with a false smile and an icy tone.

"He's in the back doing an autopsy," the kid stammered.

"Thank you," she said, turning away from him and starting down the hallway.

"Down the hall to the left," he shouted after her.

"Little on the bitchy side weren't you?" Sam asked her once he'd caught up.

"Sometimes you have to be Sammy," Evan told him.

"You've been hanging around Dean too long. It's Sam," he muttered.

"But Sammy's cute," she drawled.

"I'm not cute," he hissed back.

"Yes you are," she said, then pushed through the double doors into the large autopsy room.

The doctor looked up from the body laid out on the table. He frowned and pushed the clear plexiglass mask up and turned the hand saw off.

"Put a mask on!" He shouted at them.

Evan and Sam grabbed face masks from the cart by the door and held them over their faces. Walking over to the table, Evan looked at the body on the table and felt her stomach roll over.

"Who the hell are you?" Dr. Joseph Dupre, a surprisingly young man for the position, demanded.

"Drs. Scully and Lifeson of the CDC," Sam said when he saw Evan hesitate.

"What is the CDC doing here?" Dupre questioned them sharply.

"We're here investigating the attack last month on the McCarrey boy," Evan said, forcing her voice to remain steady.

"You're a little late," the Dr. Replied. "Kevin McCarrey committed," he started.

"Suicide two days ago, we are aware of that," Sam finished for the doctor

"We are also aware of the fact that you neglected to file a vicious animal attack with the CDC. It was by chance that we came across the article about the attack Doctor." Evan turned her gaze away from the body and focused her attention on the doctor. "Would you care to explain why you didn't follow CDC protocol and report the attack?"

"It was a croc attack," Dr. Dupre said as if that explained everything.

"It doesn't matter that it was a reptile attack, Doctor, you had an obligation to notify us. How are we supposed to do our job when people like you don't do yours?"

Dr. Dupre set the saw down and crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her. Evan refused to back down, even though she felt that he might be about to call her bluff. "How can I help the CDC?" he said finally.

"We understand that the body hasn't been released to the funeral home yet," Sam said to him. "We would like to see it."

With a sigh, the Dr walked over to the wall of drawers and chose one and pulled it open. With a sick flourish he pulled back the white sheet that covered the body. Evan swallowed sharply and tried to force the queasiness from her stomach. "What do you hope to find out from the body? The boy committed suicide. Shot himself in the heart."

"Actually, we're more interested in the bite marks from the original attack," Sam told him.

"Did you take a culture swab from the wound here Dr?" Evan questioned him, noticing that the wound on the boy's upper thigh looked red and raw.

Looking at the wound, the doctor frowned. "No, I didn't. It didn't look like that when he was brought into me."

Looking around, Evan spied a box of rubber gloves and pulled out a pair, snapping them on. She laid her fingers on the wound and pushed gently. She closed her eyes and fought off a wave of nausea as a stream of thick white pus erupted from the wound.

"Can you take a swab of that for me. I want to know what kind of infection it is. I assume that you do have the proper equipment here?" Evan said sharply.

"Of course we do," Dr. Dupre said, offended at her tone.

"Um, Gillian? Look at this," Sam said to her. While Evan had been focused on the wound on the thigh, his attention had been caught by the wound on the boy's shoulder. It had healed, but it was still new enough for Sam to make out some very distinct teeth marks.

Evan looked at the wounds, forcing herself to not look at the boy's face, or the stitched up Y incision on his torso. She frowned as she looked at the wound. "Could you lift up his shoulder for me?" She asked Sam, who pulled out a pair of rubber gloves and pulled them on before lifting the body. Measuring both wounds with her hand, she looked up at Sam, her frown deepening. He nodded his head at her.

"Doctor? How long have you lived here?"

"Practically my whole life," the man said to her defensively.

"And have you dealt with crocodile attacks before?"

"Ma'am, this area can sometimes be overrun with them."

"Than you should know the difference between crocodile teeth and canine teeth. Crocodile teeth are rounded and peg like and would create wider wounds than these. Judging by the bite formation, if it was a croc, it would have been maybe two to three feet at the very most," Evan said. "Easy enough for a teenager and a grown man to fight off."

"These wounds are smaller, more defined. And the bite radius is that of a full grown canine," Sam said.

"Are you saying a dog did this?" Dr. Dupre asked them, incredulous.

"A large enough one, or even a wolf," Sam told him.

"There are no wolves in these parts. And if there were, they'd stay out of the bayou. The crocodiles would make sure of that."

"Well, it wasn't a croc attack, that's for damn sure," she snapped at the doctor.

"The other remains. The ones that were found with Kevin, were they brought in here? Did you do the autopsy?" Sam questioned, putting his hand on Evan's arm, trying to calm her.

"Yes, but it was an abbreviated autopsy. There wasn't much left of the man. His remains were released to the funeral home and were cremated."

"I assume you recorded your findings, brief as they were?" Evan questioned him.

"Yes, the records are in my office," he said, bristling at her tone.

"We would like to see those records," Sam said to him.

"Of course," Dr. Dupre said, pushing the slab back into the drawer and shutting it tight. Taking them out of the autopsy room, he led them to his office and went over to his filing cabinet. Digging through the files, he pulled out the one that he was looking for. "Arthur Marius," he said as he handed the file to Sam.

Sam took the file from the doctor as he sat down in the chair and flipped it open. He forced himself to not gag at the sight of the mutilated body. In all the years that Dean, his father and he had been hunting, the sight of a decomposing body was something that he could never get over. And this was just as bad. He heard Evan's intake of breath when she looked over his shoulder and saw the autopsy photos.

She reached out a somewhat shaky hand and took one photo from the file and looked at it. She forced down the nausea. 'I'm not going to hurl,' she ordered herself silently as she looked at the photo. Focusing on one of the bite marks, she looked at the scale marker on the bottom of the photo and then at the bite itself. She frowned as she felt her stomach fall.

"Cause of death was exsanguination. The femoral artery was severed, causing him to bleed out," the doctor said.

Evan handed the photo back to Sam and then scrubbed her hand over her face. "Doctor, was a swab done on Marius's wounds? Saliva gathered?"

"Yes, there was, but the test results were inconclusive. The tissue was beginning to degrade. The body was found two days after the attack," Dr. Dupre explained.

"Dr, could you please call me when the test results from Kevin McCarey's body are in?" Evan said forcing her voice to remain strong. She had to get out of there.

"We're staying over at the Motel," Sam said to him as they rose from there seats.

"As soon as they're in," Dr. Dupre said to him.

They turned to leave the office when there came a knock on the door. Evan and Sam paused as the doctor opened the door and they found themselves staring at the local Sheriff.

"Hello Dell," Dr. Dupre said. He waved the Sheriff in. "Doctors, this is my brother, Dell."

Dell Dupre looked at the two strangers for a moment before pulling off his sunglasses. "Peter called me and said that we had some officials from the CDC visiting us," he said negligently.

"Just a routine visit," Dr. Dupre said, but when Evan looked at him, she could swear that he looked a little ill at ease.

"Visit about what?" Dell questioned, looking over Sam, seeming to size him up. He then turned his attention on Evan. His eyebrow quirked slightly and his smile grew broader, his brilliant white teeth standing out against his deeply tanned face.

"We're down here investigating the attack on Marius and the McCarrey boy. And inquiring as to why your brother didn't report the attack to the CDC."

"Well, Ma'am," the Sheriff said in an almost "shucks Ma'am" tone of voice. "I guess we were all in a little bit of shock. We'd lost four of our folks to a senseless attack. But I am certain that my brother would have followed protocol once we've captured the croc that attacked these boys."

"And how is that going?" Sam questioned him. He didn't like the smooth way the Sheriff was speaking and he certainly didn't like the way the other man was looking her up and down, but with a glance at Evan, he saw the frown on her face and knew that she wasn't buying it any more than he was.

"We have the situation under control,' Sheriff Dupre said to Sam.

"I'm sure you do Sheriff, however you will have better luck once you admit that this wasn't a croc attack," she said sternly. Turning to Sam she said, "Dr. Lifeson, I think we should go back to the motel and start preparing our report."

"We'll be in touch about those test results, Dr," Sam said and followed Evan out of the office and up the hall. He pushed the door open and they stepped out into the brilliant sunshine.

"Did you find that a little odd?" Evan asked Sam as they made their way back to her car. "Big brother Sheriff comes to visit while we're there?"

"Could have been a coincidence, but I doubt it," Sam said. Opening the door to the Thunderbird, he looked at her. "What did you see in the picture?"

"The bite radius was wrong. The bite on Marius's torso was larger than the one on the McCarrey boy. You know what that means."

Sam sighed in dismay. "We have two werewolves," he surmised.

"We have two werewolves," Evan confirmed.

_**Chapter Six**_

"Two? Are you sure?" Kit asked her sister a short time later while the four of them sat in a booth at the back of the diner.

"There were two different bite radii," Evan told her.

"Wonderful," Dean said sarcastically from beside his brother.

They paused the conversation when the waitress brought over the plates that they had ordered. Evan frowned when she saw the large slice of tomato on her hamburger and was about to say something to the waitress, but Dean reached over the table and stabbed at it with his fork. She sent him a grateful smile that turned to a frown and a shake of her head when he bit into it with a smile. 'Jerk." She muttered.

Kit and Sam glanced at each other and then back at Dean who frowned at them. "What?" He questioned irritably, then said. "What else did you find out?"

"I think there is something more going on here than just these attacks. The Sheriff paid us a visit while we were with the coroner," Sam told them. "We might have some trouble with him."

"We'll be gone before he can do anything to us, " Dean said, digging into his lunch.

"What did you find out at the McCarrey's," Sam asked Kit and his brother, picking at his fries.

"Seems young Kevin knew what was going on," Kit told him. "He was checking out some of the same sites that we use."

"And from what his mother said, he had an increased sensitivity to light and taste," Dean told them. "And he shot himself in the heart with a silver bullet. The kid knew what was happening to him."

"Kevin had this map up on the wall in his bedroom," Kit said as she pulled the digital camera out of her purse and bringing up the picture. "It shows exactly were the attacks happened."

"So what's the next move?" Evan asked them, swatting at Dean's hand with her fork as he reached over to steal one of her fries.

"Well, tonight is the night before the full moon, the first night that they will change." Sam took a sip of his milkshake and looked at them. "I say we set a trap and stake out the spot tonight. We've got some tranquillizers in the car."

"And what Sam? Tranq them until they change back? That doesn't solve the problem." Dean asked him.

"Dean, they're only wolves three nights of the month. The rest of the time they're human like you and me."

"They are nothing like you and me Sam. And I think there are maybe a few hundred people over the past ten years that might disagree with you too. What are you going to do? Ask them not to kill anyone again?"

"Dean, they can't help what they are," Sam argued.

"Sam, they're werewolves," Kit said softly. "They are essentially murdering machines. They don't care who they kill when they are in wolf form."

"I think Sam has a point," Evan said, surprising them all. "What?" She said defensively. "I'm not saying that we need to let them go or get fuzzy feelings about them, they are after all, deadly creatures. But they are human."

"So what do we do? Chain them to a wall until they repent?" Dean retorted.

"I don't know Dean. But I do know that if we arbitrarily kill them, we are no better than they are."

"That's bull shit," he snapped.

"Dean," Sam began.

"Sam, they've got the taste of blood. They're not going to stop. They have to be put down." Dean said vehemently as he stood up from the booth and walked over to the cash register. He threw down some bills and walked out of the diner.

"Maybe if we hit the books again and study the lore we can find an alternative."

"Sam, you might have to face the fact that there may not be one, and Dean is right," Kit told him gently.

"It can't hurt to look," Evan said to her sister.

By late that afternoon, Sam and Evan admitted defeat. According to legend, the only way to cure a werewolf was to kill them, unless the person hadn't changed yet. If they hadn't changed yet, killing the werewolf who had infected them was generally successful.

"Kevin didn't have to die," Sam said in disgust, snapping the laptop closed.

"Do you think that he was planning on going out to the woods to trap the Were that got him?" Kit asked them the bed, looking up from the book that she had been studying.

"If he was, then why kill himself?" Evan questioned in confusion.

"Maybe he wasn't certain that the legend was true. Hell, we don't even know if the legend is true," Dean said. After his outburst in the diner, they hadn't expected him to come and help them with the research. When he had come back, he pulled up a chair across the table from Evan and began leafing through the books, ignoring the appreciative smile that Evan sent him.

"We should get ready to go," Sam said to them, glancing at his watch. Sunset was in a few hours, and they still had to hike out to the site of the attack.

Kit and Evan went back to their room a short time later. Knowing that the temperatures at night could drop, they changed into their worn jeans and t-shirts, and then pulled on thick sweatshirts. Kit laughed when she saw the front of Evan's black sweatshirt depicting the Gingerbread Man from Shrek with the caption "Eat Me".

"Um Sis? Do you really need to give the Werewolves ideas?"

Evan let out a patently fake laugh. "You're hilarious."

Pulling on their hiking boots, the girls grabbed their coats. Kit picked up the cooler by the door and then slammed the motel room door shut behind her. They noticed that Sam and Dean were waiting for them by the Impala. Dean looked at Evan's shirt and raised one eyebrow.

"Do you really," he began.

"Shut up," she said, opening the trunk of the Thunderbird and rummaging through it.

Setting the cooler down by the Impala, Kit saw the look on Sam's face. "Dean and I stopped and got some steaks. We thought we could use it as bait for the Weres."

"Like shooting fish in barrel," Sam said.

"That's the idea Sammy," Dean said and Sam frowned. He still wasn't sure that killing them outright was the best option.

Kit opened the large denim satchel and Evan loaded the tranquilizer guns and the darts into it. Taking one of the darts, Sam looked at the girls.

"Tiletamine? That's powerful stuff," he said. "How did you get your hands on this?"

"We have connections," Kit said to him with a smile.

"I think we need some of their connections," Dean said, looking at the load of darts that Evan was packing away.

Pulling up the floorboard of the trunk, Evan pulled out two soft cover gun cases from the underside and handed them to Kit. She pulled out boxes of ammunition and then straightened up to close the trunk.

"Ready?" She asked them, taking the cases from Kit.

"Let's go," Dean said and then went over to the Impala.

Evan hadn't liked to give up control of the driving, but they had decided to go in one car out to the hiking spot. Climbing into the backseat of the car, Evan ignored the smirk on her sister's face. Dean pulled out of the parking lot with a squeal of the tires.

"Turn left up here," Evan said idly as Dean drove out of town.

"No backseat driving," Dean retorted, purposely driving past the turn off. "The one up here is closer to the trail."

"But if you," she began, but Dean simply reached over and turned up the music. Evan gave up and sat back in the seat.

"Play nice children," Kit said and earned a dirty look from both of them. Sam snickered from the front seat which earned him a smack from his brother.

When they reached the hiking trail, Dean pulled the car over and they climbed out. He went around to the trunk and pulled out two shot guns. The box of shells that he pulled had been homemade, the buckshot replaced by silver pellets. Sam grabbed one of the guns, loaded it and racked it before flipping on the safety and slinging it over his shoulder.

Dean followed and then slammed the trunk shut, walking around the car to where Kit and Evan had the soft cover cases zipped open on the hood of the car and were assembling the pieces of their Winchester rifles. They slapped the ten round magazines in place and then flipped the safety switches on before slinging them over their shoulders.

"I think I love you," Dean said eyeing the weapons.

"Love you too," Evan replied.

"I was taking to the gun," Dean retorted.

"So was I," Evan said, eyeing his shotgun.

"Oh lord," Kit said with a shake of her head. Handing Sam one of the tranquillizer guns. "I've loaded it with two Tiletamine darts. One should be enough to bring down a Were. But the second dart is there just in case."

"I still don't see why we're taking tranquillizers in with us. They need to be put down," Dean said, then held up his hand when Evan opened her mouth to argue. "I'm not arguing with you. They've killed how many people over the years? If they were remorseful of what they'd down when they changed, they would have ended themselves long before now. If I see one, I'm taking it out." With that he walked away from them, following the footpath towards the bayou.

Evan looked over at Sam, "Is he always so stubborn?"

"Yes," Sam replied before tucking the tranquillizer gun into the back waistband of his jeans.

"Dean wait!" Evan said, following him.

With an aggravated sigh, Dean stopped and turned around. Evan came up to him and looped a leather pouch around his neck.

"It's a scapula with monkshood in it. It's supposed to repel Were's," she told him.

"It smells foul," he remarked.

"There's some other stuff in there too," she said, looping one around her own neck.

"We need to get going, the moon is going to be up soon," Sam said, taking the cooler from Kit.

With Dean in the lead with the map, they walked single file into the bayou. Sam and Evan kept the tranquilizer guns within reach while Kit kept a tight hold on her rifle. Dean carried his shotgun at his side, his finger on the trigger and his thumb on the safety just in case.

"We should be getting close to the attack site soon," Dean told them an hour later, stopping at look at the map in the failing light.

"Please tell me someone brought bug spray," Evan said as she swatted at a mosquito on her neck.

"Sorry Princess, I left it at home," Dean said with a smirk.

"Jerk," she muttered, walking past him.

"Who's turn is it?" Sam asked from the back of the line.

"Mine. I'll take Apparitions for four hundred," Kit said to him, following behind Evan. To pass the time while they hiked through the bayou, Kit had suggested a game of Supernatural Jeopardy. Dean had given her a strange look when she had suggested it, but he and Sam were currently in the lead.

"Okay," Sam thought for a moment and then grinned boyishly at her. "This apparition usually travels the back roads and water ways. It is generally a woman who was wronged and went temporarily mad and killed her kids. Then killed herself."

Kit stopped so suddenly and looked at him that Sam nearly tripped over her. "That could be any spirit. A spirit is born of a violent death or a suicide. Suicides are usually not allowed by the church to be buried in hallowed ground and they wander the area of their death," she argued.

Evan caught the smirk on Dean's face when he turned and grinned at his brother. "It's a Woman in White, Sis." She grinned when Dean's face fell.

"It's never been proven that they exist," Kit said to Evan.

Looking over his shoulder, Dean said "Trust me, they do."

"Oh really," Evan said doubtfully.

"We came across one in Jericho, California," Sam told Kit.

"A true Woman in White?" Kit was intrigued.

"Yeah. She tried to run us over with Dean's car," Sam explained.

"She didn't hurt the car, did she?" Evan asked.

"No, she didn't hurt the car. But she nearly ran us over," Dean pointed out.

"At least the car was okay," Evan smirked.

Ignoring the sniping war between Evan and Dean, Kit grinned. "Evan got that one right, so we are ahead. And it's our turn."

"We're here," Dean said suddenly. Stopping in the middle of a small clearing, he looked at the map.

Pulling out her flashlight Kit shone it around the clearing. She tilted her head to one side as she examined a nearby tree. "Look at the claw marks," she said to her sister. Looking at it, Evan grimaced. "The bite that I saw on Marius's body suggests a full grown wolf. Anywhere from one hundred and fifty to two hundred pounds."

"I hope we have enough tranquilizer," Kit said, a bit of worry in her tone.

"That stuff should bring down a full grown grizzly," Evan said.

"I say we should find a place to set up," Dean said, coming up behind them.

"Preferably somewhere up high," Sam told them as he opened the cooler and began pulling out the packages of meat and tossed them into the clearing and undergrowth. "The scent of the meat should draw them out."

Looking up at the sky, Kit then glanced at her watch. "They should be changing soon. The moon's almost up."

Walking over to a tree, Evan stuck the tranquilizer gun into the back waistband of her jeans and jumped up to reach a lower branch on it. She pushed her foot against the trunk of the tree, but it slid.

"Need some help Sweetheart?" Dean asked her sarcastically.

"Just give me a boost," Evan ordered grumpily.

Slapping his hands on her ass, Dean gave her a none-too-gentle shove up into the tree. "You'd think that with hunting evil, you'd be able to climb."

Looking down over the branch, Evan gave him a whack in the back of the head with the toe of her boot. Turning, he looked up at her with a frown. "I've never had to hide out in a tree before." She pushed herself up onto the branch. "And Goddess willing, I won't have to again," Evan muttered as she adjusted herself as comfortably as she could.

Sam took Kit by the waist and lifted her up to grab a low laying branch across from her sister. Kit climbed up onto the branch and then looked down at Sam with an appreciative smile. Dean and Sam each chose a tree nearby and climbed up, settling themselves in for what might be a long wait. Evan hated the waiting. She grew restless and started humming to herself.

"It's obvious you've never gone hunting for animals before," Dean hissed loudly at her. "The object is to be quiet so you don't scare your prey away."

"I'm sorry, but I'm bored," Evan retorted.

"Shh! Both of you," Kit scolded.

"Quiet!" Sam said suddenly. He shifted forward on the thick branch and looked down beneath them. He listened carefully until he heard it again. A soft growl and something moving through the underbrush. By the light of the moon, he peered around the clearing. He almost missed it, the large figure at the edge of the clearing. It's large body was hunched, ready to spring as it swung it's massive head from side to side, sniffing the air. As it stepped out into the clearing, Sam's eyes widened in shock. "Holy shit," he barely breathed. It was huge.

"Oh Christ," Kit said from her spot in the tree beside him.

"Look behind it," Dean pointed to the smaller, but no less imposing body of another Were as it followed behind the first. "You were right," he hissed to Evan. "There were two."

"I was wrong. Look," Evan pointed to a third Were standing off to the side.

"Wonderful, a whole furry family," Sam said.

They fell silent as the Were's stopped suddenly and started looking around the clearing. Their noses thrust in the air, sniffing around for the new scent they'd picked up.

"Get ready," Dean said, slowly moving his shot gun up into position.

"Dean, don't move," Evan whispered suddenly seeing that the large Were had stopped. In the moonlight she could see that the ruff around the large ones neck was raised, and its lips were curled in a low snarl. It was staring with large golden eyes in the direction of where Dean was hiding. The two smaller Were's had found one of the pieces of meat that Sam had thrown around earlier and were fiercely tugging it between them.

"Sam, get the one on the left," Evan said softly. She pulled the tranquilizer gun from the back of her jeans.

"What are you doing?" Dean hissed at her.

"I'm going to tranq one of the small ones. It might not be too late for them," Evan said. She inched out on the branch and ed the pistol. Flipping the safety off, she glanced over at Sam and found him stretched out along the branch, ready to fire.

"If the tranquilizer doesn't work, then you can open fire," Sam said softly.

Closing one eye, Evan stared down the sights until her hand steadied on one of the smaller Weres. She squeezed the trigger smoothly and heard the soft fuft of the dart as it streaked out of the barrel. Seconds later she heard the yelp of first one Were and then the other as Sam fired his dart.

The large Were snarled when it heard the yelps of the two smaller ones and its hackles shot up. Swinging its massive head around, it looked up into the trees. Its eyes narrowed as it caught movement in the branches.

"Oh shit," Sam hissed. He moved back suddenly as the large Were bounded towards the tree and jumped up.

"Sam!" Dean shouted from his spot. He lifted the shotgun and flipped the safety off. Without aiming, he fired it at the large creature that was jumping at the branch where Sam was. He heard the yelp as the silver pellets struck the Were's hide.

"I think you just pissed it off Dean!" Evan yelled as the Were snarled and jumped up again.

From the tree beside him, Kit raised her rifle and tried to take a shot, but the Were kept moving and she couldn't get a good shot at it. Inching out on the branch, she took a shot at it.

"Dammit," she shouted to herself as the bullet whizzed past it and struck the trunk of the tree.

'I got it!" Dean shouted, aiming at the Were with his shotgun.

"Dean look out!" Evan yelled suddenly, having turned towards him, she saw one of the smaller Weres creeping groggily up underneath the branch where Dean was perched. She swung the tranquillizer pistol towards Dean and shot the final dart into the younger Were. It hit its shoulder just as the young Were was about to jump up at Dean. It's stride thrown off, the young Were crashed into the undergrowth.

Dean looked at the Were and in surprise and then back at Evan. He opened his mouth, but the sound of a large crack drew his attention to Sam as the branch beneath his brother gave way under the assault from the Were.

Sam crashed to the ground with a groan and immediately began to crawl away. The Were, seeing his movements, snarled and turned towards Sam, following him with a snarl. Searching through the undergrowth, Sam tried to find his shotgun but couldn't. He heard the snarl deepen and turned to look at the Were. Its body was tensing to spring and he felt a sickening feeling of dread fill him.

"Sam!" Kit yelled in fear. Adrenaline filled her and she pushed herself up to her feet. Reaching down she grabbed the butterfly knife from the inside of her boot and with a few flicks of her wrist, she had the blade out. Tensing her body, she sprang from the branch and spread herself out, wrapping her arms around the thick neck of the Were as soon as she landed on its back Driving the blade of the knife into the Were's shoulder, she held on tight as it reared up, howling in pain.

"Kit you fool!" Evan screamed. She fumbled for the rifle, her eyes never leaving her sister as the huge Were turned his attention on her, snarling in pained rage.

"Oh shit!" Kit yelled, rolling over and trying to crawl away from the enraged animal.

The Were, focusing on Kit, pounced suddenly. Kit thrust her legs up at its chest, hoping to throwing it off, but its momentum and its weight was too much for her. She rolled over as one large hand with its razor sharp claws came down beside her head. Evan flipped the safety off, and sighted on the Were, but she couldn't take the shot. The powerful weapon might push the bullet right through the Were and strike her sister, she couldn't chance it.

Kit tried to claw her way through the dirt away from the Were, but screamed in agony when pain ran up her leg. She felt her body leave the ground as the Were lifted its head and dragged her up. She screamed as the pain seared through her before everything mercifully went black.

Dean tensed when he saw the Were lift Kit from the ground. Glancing at Evan, he knew that she was thinking the same thing. If she took the shot she could hit her sister. Racking the shot gut again, Dean fired the shell at the Were's legs. The intense howl of anger and pain filled the air, but with the howl, the Were opened its mouth. Kit's unconscious body sailed through the air and landed with a sickening thud in the undergrowth. The Were turned towards Dean, its feral eyes glaring in the moonlight.

"Over here!" Sam said, rising and waving his arms trying to draw the Were's attention from Dean. "Get Kit! Get back to the car!" He shouted at them when the Were turned it's attention to him.

"Sam what are you doing?" Evan yelled, dropping from the tree, the rifle ready to fire. But the creature moved as she fired and the round missed.

"Get back to the car!' Sam yelled at them, and then turned and ran into the undergrowth. The Were snarled and started to lope after him, its gait uneven from it's wounds.

"Dean get Kit!" Evan screamed, then ran over to where Sam had been. Kicking the ground, she found his tranquilizer gun and picked it up. Taking quick aim, she fired it at the Were.

Dean dropped from the branch and ran over to where Kit was and rolled her over. Evan fell to her knees beside him and looked at her sister's pale face.

"Dean?" She was afraid to ask.

"She's alive, just unconscious. We have to get her out of here," he said. Pulling on her arm, Dean brought her into an upright position and then moved into her to put her limp body over his shoulder.

Evan grabbed the rifle and pulled her flashlight from her coat pocket. Flipping it on, she led Dean towards the trail. Looking behind her, she saw that the smallest of the Weres was spread out on the ground, the tranquillizer having kicked in.

"Let's go Evan," Dean shouted at her.

"What about Sam?"

"He'll be okay. He'll meet us at the car," Dean assured her. Glancing back the way they had just come he whispered. "Be safe Sammy."

_**Chapter Seven**_

Sam heard the Were crashing through the woods behind him. He pushed the branches out of his way, but felt the sting of others slapping against his face and body. Not wanting to lead the animal towards the car, he wound a path through the bayou, moving one way and then another. He slowed slightly when the crashing behind him ceased. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath, listening intently. Hearing nothing, he looked around, but all was still.

Keeping a careful ear trained on the sounds around him, Sam pushed himself to run towards the car. Hopefully he had lost the Were and wasn't leading it right to his brother and the girls.

"There's the car," Evan said suddenly, and ran over to it. She threw open the back door and Dean ducked inside, laying Kit along the back seat. He flipped on the overhead light and helped Evan examine Kit.

"Here it is," he said when his hand passed over the wound on her leg.

"Oh my god," Evan breathed looking at the huge rip in her jeans. Blood soaked through the denim. "Dean, we need something to wrap her leg before she loses too much more blood."

Digging through the bag tucked behind the drivers seat, he pulled out a couple of shirts. "Here, use these." He said, wadding up one to put on the wound. "Tie it tight."

Evan tore the shirt in half and tied one half in place, then the other, holding the makeshift pad in place. Kit groaned as she pulled it tight. "I'm sorry honey," she whispered to her sister. Her heart fell when Kit's eyes fluttered open for one dazed moment before closing again.

"We have to get her to the hospital," Dean said.

"No. No hospitals. Kit hates them even more than me," Evan said to him. "Where is Sam?" She cut in when he was going to argue. She ran her hand across her forehead in agitation and unknowingly smeared blood across her pale skin.

Looking at the fear that clouded her face, that made her bite her bottom lip, Dean reached out and cupped her cheek. Drawing her face up to look at him, he said gently. "He'll be here soon. And Kit will be okay," Dean assured her. "She's got you looking out for her."

"Dean?" They heard Sam call from the darkness.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted back. "Over here."

"Where is it?" Dean asked when Sam came over to the car

"I don't know. I lost it somewhere," he replied, and looked in at Kit.

"Evan must have hit it with the tranquillizer," Dean told him.

"How is she?" Right now, Sam didn't care about the Weres. He looked at Kit's pale face and felt a hard punch to his stomach. They couldn't lose her. He couldn't lose her. Losing Jess was hard enough, but this? He didn't want to think about it.

"She's lost some blood. We need to get her back to the motel so I can look at it better.

"Get in the car Sam, we're outta here," Dean said. He climbed into the front seat and started the engine.

Sam climbed in the back seat with Evan, carefully putting Kit's legs over his lap and kept his hand on her leg, applying pressure to the wound on her calf. She had risked herself for him. She didn't deserve to die for that. Dean glanced in the rearview mirror as he pulled away from the trail and saw Evan leaning over her sister, stroking her hair, while Sam kept pressure on her wound.

"Faster Dean, please," Evan whispered tearfully.

He pressed his foot down harder on the accelerator. Pulling into the motel, Dean parked and reached over the back seat. "Where's the key?"

Evan searched through her pockets and pulled it out, handing it to Dean. Sam threw open the back door and climbed out. He reached back in to take Kit into his arms, cradling her head against his chest. Evan slid out of the car and went over to the Thunderbird. She pulled the small velvet bag out from under the passenger seat and then ran into the motel room.

Sam laid Kit out on one of the beds and grabbed the knife that Dean held out for him. He quickly sliced away the makeshift bandaging and cut up the leg of her jeans. Evan gently rolled her sister over onto her side while Sam examined her leg.

"Dean, get me some hot water. We have to clean away the blood to get a better look. Evan, get me the holy water," he ordered.

"Holy water? Do you think that will keep her from getting infected?"

"Can't hurt to try," he said.

"Right," Evan said, the dug through one of their bags for the bottles of Holy Water.

Grabbing the ice bucket, Dean went into the bathroom and filled it with warm water and grabbed the washcloth. Bringing them out to his brother, he moved to the end of the bed and pulled Kit's boots off. Evan came back to the bed and undid Kit's jeans. Sam cut up the rest of the one leg and Evan pulled her sister's jeans off, covering her partially with the blanket.

"Evan, hold her leg up," Sam said and Evan reached over the bed to lift her sister's leg. "Dean, I need more light."

Dean went to the side of the bed and flipped on the light, yanking off the shade. Bright light flooded into the room and he tilted it so Sam could see. Sam ran the wet washcloth carefully over Kit's leg, almost afraid of what he might see. The Were's teeth had cut deeply, but cleanly, into her leg. There was a little bit of tearing from when he had thrown her, but the damage seemed minimal.

"Okay," he said in relief. "It doesn't look too bad. I think the denim kept its teeth from going too deep. I don't think he had a good grip on her," he said comfortingly.

"Is she going to be okay?" Evan asked him softly, fear still running through her.

"We better watch her tonight, make sure she doesn't start bleeding again," taking the bottle of Holy water from Evan, Sam doused each of the wounds with it. "For good measure."

Dean looked at them, then at Kit. "We need to keep watch for any signs of infection."

Evan turned her attention to him, her green eyes darkening in anger. "What are you going to do if she is infected Dean? Shoot her?"

Dean clenched his jaw shut on the comment that sprang to his lips. He knew that she was upset, that's why she was getting a slide. This time. "Give me a little more credit than that. But we need to know if she's infected."

"I'm sorry Dean, I-" Evan began, but then stopped when Dean held up his hand. Feeling ashamed of herself, Evan dug in the velvet bag and pulled out a bottle.

"Oh good, I was wondering if you had that with you," Sam said, looking at the familiar bottle. Kit had used the contents of it on his back when they had first met.

"Always keep it on hand," Evan said, uncorking one of the vials and poured some into a glass. Then handed it to Sam. "Put some of that on her leg. It will ease the pain and also help them heal."

"What is that?" Dean asked her, taking the glass and taking a sniff of it. He grimaced and looked at her.

"I know, it smells horrible. It's comfrey root extract. It's kind of a general purpose healer. When she wakes up, I'll give her that to drink."

"Drink it?" Dean looked at Evan in skepticism. "You're nuts if you think she'll drink this."

"It has cleansing properties too. If she drinks some and lets it work through her system, it might flush out any infection," Evan told him.

"Too much can be toxic though," Sam warned her as he smoothed the extract over Kit's wounds.

"So now we wait," Dean said, turning a chair around to straddle it and fold his arms over the back of it.

Sam said back on the other bed and scrubbed his hand over his face. Evan moved to sit behind Kit, cradling her head in her lap, stroking her hair softly while Kit lay unconscious. She looked up when Dean handed her the damp washcloth and then motioned to her forehead. Peering in the mirror on the wall at the foot of the bed, Evan saw the trail of blood from earlier and shuddered, quickly wiping it away.

"I hate the waiting," Evan said softly. It was going to be a long night.

_**Chapter Eight**_

A few hours later, Dean had gone out to pick them up something to eat, but none of them really had an appetite. They had tried to sleep in shifts, but found that they couldn't sleep. Kit began to thrash in her sleep, but hadn't woken up.

Around dawn, Evan had sent Sam and Dean back to their own room to get a few hours' sleep despite Sam's protests. Dean had eventually dragged him from the room, telling Evan to let them know if she needed them. She had then found herself dozing in the chair at the foot of the bed.

"Sis?" Kit croaked later that morning, sitting up in bed and then wincing when she moved her leg.

Evan was awake instantly and went over to the bed. "Kit?" She laid her hand on her sisters forehead. Her temperature seemed normal.

Kit flinched as Evan's hand touched her skin. It felt like sandpaper against her. Opening her eyes, she shut them again. "Damn it's bright," she muttered.

Evan looked out the window at the weak, early morning sunlight. She rose from the bed and closed the curtain, shutting out the light. "Is that better?"

"Yes," Kit muttered. The sound of the curtain snapping shut, Evan's footfall on the carpet and the squeak of the bedsprings as she sat down echoed in her head. She groaned sharply and laid back down on the bed, pulling the pillow over her head.

"Kit? Are you okay?"

"Keep your voice down!" Kit snapped irritably.

"But I," Evan began, and then stopped. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

"I'm sorry Evan." Kit threw the pillow off and sat up. She winced as a flare of pain went up her leg. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?"

"A little bit," Kit said.

"The Were bit you. In the leg," Evan told her. She lifted the blanket to show Kit the bandages on her leg. "We got the bleeding stopped."

Kit paled. "It bit me?"

"Yes," Evan nodded.

"Did you kill it?" At Evan's uncomfortable silence, Kit surmised, "You didn't. You let it get away?"

"Sam led it away so that Dean and I could get you to the car. We had to," she began.

"It got away," Kit intoned slowly.

"We'll talk about this later. You get some sleep," Evan said soothingly. "I'm going to take a quick shower."

"Where's Sam? And Dean?" Kit added.

"I sent them back to their room earlier. They were falling asleep in the chairs. They should be up soon," Evan told her, the grabbed her stuff from her bag and went into the bathroom and closed the door. She leaned against the door and breathed a sigh of relief that Kit was okay. "Thank the Goddess," she whispered.

Kit laid back down on the bed, and pulled the pillow up over her head, but even with that she heard her sister's sigh and whisper. She frowned and then winced as she heard a car drive by the window. It echoed in her head so loudly she was certain that the car was going to come right into the room. When Evan cranked on the tap, Kit whimpered. The sound of the water beating down reverberated in her ears, but it was a slow, steady sound that she could concentrate on, blocking out everything else. She lay in agony while Evan finished her shower, holding her hands over her ears and curled up on her side.

When she picked up the scent of vanilla, she knew that Evan had opened her bottle of body lotion. Fear streaked through Kit. Pushing herself up off the bed, she tried to ignore the sounds around her. Hobbling over to the bed, she grabbed the notes that she had taken at the McCarrey house. She flipped through the pages, wincing at the sound of the paper moving. Reading the notes, she groaned aloud.

"Kit, what are you doing out of bed?" Evan rushed over to her sister.

"I'm infected," Kit told her. "I'm becoming one of them."

"No, you can't be," Evan said, shaking her head in denial. "We doused your wounds in Holy water. We cleaned them with the comfrey extract."

"Evan, listen to me," Kit said vehemently. "I am infected. The light hurts my eyes. I can hear everything around me. I heard you in the bathroom. I smelled your lotion as soon as you opened the bottle. And when you touch me, your fingers feel like sandpaper. Kevin's mother said he made his room dark and his eating habits," Kit paused as she remembered what Kevin's mother said and forced back a wave of nausea. "It's already starting."

"No." She didn't want to think about it let alone admit it, but looking at Kit's face, she knew her sister was right. "We'll get it tonight Sis," Evan assured her.

"You better, because if you don't, we're going to go broke buying Nair," Kit tried to laugh, but it came out rather weakly.

"Are you sure?" Dean asked Evan a short time later.

After re-bandaging Kit's leg when it had started to bleed again, Evan left the motel room and went to Sam and Dean's room. "I'm sure. Kit was just bit last night and she's already showing symptoms. She's sensitive to light, scent, sound and touch."

"Females develop faster than males normally. Maybe that's the case here," Sam speculated.

"I thought that she wouldn't change until the first lunar cycle after she was bit," Dean said from the end of the bed. He scrubbed his hands through his hair.

"I don't think she'll physically change until the next full moon," Sam said, looking at one of the websites they had looked at the day before. "It says here that from the time the victim is bitten to the first full moon cycle after the infection, the body changes to adapt for the physical change. So her muscle structure will change and her senses will be getting stronger, but I don't think she'll actually change all the way."

"We have," Dean looked at his watch. "Four hours til nightfall."

"And we have no idea who the Weres are," Sam sighed.

"I bet you Dr. Dupre knows," Evan said grimly.

"What are we going to do? Go over there and demand to know who the Weres are?" Sam said.

"It crossed my mind," Evan retorted sharply. "I would bet everything that he knows who they are. He's already lied about the croc attack. Both him and that dumbass sheriff."

"Granted, but we can't go storming in there," Dean told her.

"He's right Sis," Kit said from the doorway.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Evan stared at her sister in shock.

"I couldn't sleep," Kit replied softly.

"How are you feeling?" Sam asked her, rising from his chair and helped her over to the bed.

"Hungry," she answered. Kit looked at Sam and smiled at the look of concern in his eyes. She could hear the beat of his heart pick up and found the thump of it soothing.

"What do you feel like? We could go get you something," Sam said, sitting beside her on the bed.

"No, " she shook her head. "I need to get out of here. I don't like being cooped up," she told him.

"Um, we have a few hours. I could do with something myself," Evan suggested. Grabbing their coats, Sam and Dean led the girls out of the motel room and they climbed into the Impala.

As Kit climbed into the back seat of the car, she was suddenly assaulted by the strong scent of cleanser, and knew that Dean had been out earlier cleaning up the leather. She sniffed again and caught the scent of her blood beneath the cleanser. She moved to the far end of the seat where she couldn't smell it anymore.

They pulled out of the parking lot and drove to the other side of town, finding a small diner on the outskirts. Kit closed her eyes when they walked in. She was assaulted by the scent of the food cooking, the smell of stale oil and as they walked by one table, the scent of one trucker's unwashed body. She shuddered and gagged.

When the waitress, a woman in her late twenties , her hair pulled back into a pony tail, brought the menus, Kit saw her glance at Evan and heard her heart speed up. Kit bowed her head and hid the smile that sprang to her lips.

"I'll be back in a moment to take your order," the young woman said and then turned to walk away from the table.

"What's so funny?" Sam asked her from across the table.

"Our waitress likes Evan," Kit told him.

"Oh yeah?" Dean smirked at the stunned look on Evan's face.

"What?" Evan hissed, glancing over her shoulder and found the waitress looking at her.

"You're kidding," Sam said, trying to stifle his laugh. "How do you know?"

"She looked at Evan and I heard her heart go into overdrive," Kit told them.

"That's not funny Kit," Evan hissed.

"I think it's hilarious," Dean laughed, then growled softly when Evan kicked him under the table.

"I'm serious Evan," Kit told her.

A few minutes later, when the waitress came back and took their orders, Evan kept her face resolutely turned down to the menu.

_**Chapter Nine **_

They sat in silence as they waited for their food to come. Kit turned away from the window, the sunlight was bothering her eyes. When the food arrived, she dug into it eagerly. She heard her stomach growl as she bit into her burger. Looking around the table, she saw the look on the others' faces.

"Wha'? I'm hungry," she said.

"Sis, it's still red in the middle," Evan said, suddenly feeling nauseous.

"It tastes really good though," Kit said, biting into her burger again.

Evan closed her eyes, trying to force aside the queasiness. It got the best of her and she pushed aside her barely touched plate and scrambled out of the booth. Pushing open the door to the diner, she ran around the back of the diner over to a stand of bushes and trees in the field behind it. Falling to her knees, she lost the contents of her stomach. She sat back on her heels and looked up at the sky, taking deep breaths. Looking up when the shadow fell across her face, she was surprised to see Dean standing there with a glass of water for her. Taking it from him, she rinsed the foul taste from her mouth.

"Of all the years that we've been doing this," she shook her head. "This is the first time that anything bad has ever really happened to us."

"What about you getting slashed in the ribs?" Dean pointed out.

"That's not as bad as this. We've never become what we hunt."

"It won't come to that," Dean said.

"I hope not Dean. I really do," Evan said softly.

When they headed back to the motel, Kit began to feel nauseous. Evan held her head while she was sick, forcing aside the tears as she saw the discomfort her sister was in. Evan tried to get her to lay down, but Kit was adamant about coming with them.

"Sis, you may be healing faster than normal, but you're not one hundred percent yet. You should stay and rest," Evan tried to convince her.

"Someone has to be there to make sure that you do it right and kill the damn thing," Kit snapped. Evan bit back the sharp retort that sprang to her lips. "I'm going. My leg is fine!" She then disproved her words, stumbling as she turned wrong and her leg gave out beneath her. Evan went to her side to catch her, but Kit batted her hands away. "Don't," she said irritably.

Evan backed away and let her sister make her own way to her bed. Kit sat down on the bed and took a deep breath, burying her hands in her hair. "I'm sorry Evan. I don't know why I said that."

"It's okay Sis," Evan said, sitting down on the other bed, looking at her sister.

Kit looked up at her, her violet eyes filled with tears. "No it's not," she said miserably. "I shouldn't have said that."

"Since when do I ever listen to you anyway?" Evan tried to brush it off with a negligent shrug of her shoulders and a smirk.

"Never," Kit laughed weakly, then shook her head. "What a mess this has become."

"It will be over tonight Sis, and you'll be back to your normally bitchy self.

"Is it hot in here? Could you turn on the air conditioning?" Kit asked her suddenly, her face growing red. Heat suffused her body and the air felt thick, like a damp blanket over her mouth and nose.

Laying her hand lightly on Kit's head, she frowned. "You're burning up. I'll get you some water. Lay down," Evan told her. Going over to the air conditioner, she turned it on full and then turned back to the bed. Looking down at her sister's pale face, Evan decided that there was no way that Kit was going out tonight.

Grabbing the ice bucket, she said softly, "I'm going to get some ice. I'll be right back," and then quickly left the motel room.

She stopped at the car on her way to the ice machine and dug out her keys. Opening the trunk, she rifled through it until she found the locked box they kept there. Looking over her shoulder, she unlocked it and poked through the contents.

Finding the small bottle at the bottom, she felt a stab of guilt for what she was going to do, but ruthlessly pushed it aside. Tucking the bottle in her pocket, she locked the box back up and put it back in the trunk and slammed it shut. She then quickly filled the ice bucket at the machine and went back into the room.

"That was quick," Kit said from where she lay on the bed. "What did you get from the car?"

Evan turned to look at her sister and found her staring at her unwaveringly. Damn her hearing was sharp. "I was looking for my MP3 player. I thought it was in car, but then I remembered that it was here in my bag," Evan fibbed.

Turning, she took one of the plastic glasses filled it with ice and then went into the bathroom. Turning the water on, she peeked around the edge of the door and saw that Kit's eyes were closed. Digging the bottle out of her pocket, she filled the dropper half full and squirted it into the glass before filling it nearly to the rim with water. Taking the glass out to Kit she sat on the edge of the bed and nudged Kit's hip. "Here, drink this. You need the fluids and we've got to get your temp down."

Kit drank the water greedily, the increase of her temperature making her suddenly very thirsty. Watching her drink, Evan was once again beset by guilt, but assured herself that it was the right thing to do. Long minutes passed and Evan watched her sister's eyes grow heavy and her body grow lethargic.

She jumped slightly at the knock on the door, but relaxed when Sam and Dean walked into the room. Sam frowned as he saw Kit laying on the bed.

"Hey guys," Kit said weakly, her eyes focusing on Sam as he came over to the bed.

"What's wrong?" Sam looked at her worriedly. His eyes were filled with concern when he looked over Kit's face. Her skin was flushed and she was sweating.

"Her temperature spiked," Evan explained.

"I'm fine," Kit said. "Evan worries too much."

Sam laid his hand on her head and felt the heat of her skin. "Evan's right Kit, you're burning up."

"I'm fine!" Kit snapped, and forced herself into a sitting position. "It'll pass. We should think about heading out soon."

"Kit, you can't hunt tonight," Dean told her.

"I'm going," Kit retorted firmly. Looking at Sam, she gave him a loopy smile and blinked owlishly as the colors around him began to sway.

"No, you're not Sis," Evan said gently.

She put a hand to her head as the room began to tilt around her. "Whoa. That didn't feel good."

"Kit?" Sam called worriedly.

"What did you do to me?" Kit said suddenly, her eyes squinting as she tried to focus on her sister. She pushed herself to her feet. The world seemed to spin around her and she started to collapse.

Sam caught her before she did a face plant into the floor and pulled her up against his chest. He shot Evan look filled with concern and anger as he laid Kit out on the bed. "What the hell did you do?" He demanded angrily.

"What did you give her?" Dean asked her, taking the vial from her hand when she dug it out of her pocket. "What is this?"

"Georgia Home Boy," she told him.

"You drugged her?" Sam shouted.

"She can't come with us Sam. She's in no condition to fight," Evan said softly.

"That didn't give you the right to drug her. And with that shit?"

"Where did you get GHB?" Dean demanded sharply staring down at the vial of the powerful sedative that was often used as a date rape drug. "And why the hell do you have it?"

"I can't remember where Kit got it," Evan snapped. "We went up against this guy who was possessed by the spirit of a serial killer. We used the GHB to put him out so we could exorcize him."

"And you used it on your sister?" Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Would you rather I use the animal tranquilizer on her?" Evan argued. "Jesus, I don't like doing that to her anymore than you do, but I need her here where she's safe, not out there where she's a liability."

Evan stalked out of the room to her car and leaned against it, taking deep breaths to calm her racing heart. She hastily wiped away the tears as Dean came out of the room and walked over to her. "I suppose you're here for round two," she said miserably when he stopped before her.

"No, I'm not," he said. "Sam's going to stay with Kit to make sure she's okay."

Evan nodded. "Sam hates me, doesn't he?"

"Naw," Dean told her. "Did I tell you about the time he took me to a faith healer?"

"You went to a faith healer?"

"Yeah. Sam was just as determined as you. He's just concerned about Kit."

"So am I."

"I know." Dean look at her and was going to say something, but thought better of it. "So, are you ready to kill some Werewolves? Or do you still want to give them the warm and fuzzy treatment?"

Walking around to the back of the car, she popped the trunk and rooted around inside. Grabbing a case from the trunk, she pulled out two Glock semi-automatic hand guns. Taking six clips, each loaded with fifteen silver tipped rounds, from the inside of the case, she slipped one into each of the guns. Setting them down, she pulled a clip on holster and tucked it into the back of her jeans, put the gun into it. Digging in the trunk, she found a specially designed holster that fastened around her hips and her thigh. Jamming the Glock into it, she then pulled out her grandfather's saber and slung it over her shoulder. She then slammed the trunk closed. "Let's go hunting."

Dean watched as she handled the weapons easily. Man did he like a girl that could take care of herself.

_**Chapter Ten**_

An hour later, Evan and Dean stood in the clearing they had been in the night before. The sun was disappearing behind the trees and Evan glanced at her watch. Less than an hour before the moon was full.

"They came from this direction last night," Evan said, standing beneath the tree where she had hidden and waved her hand in the general direction.

"They could be just about anywhere," Dean said, but started walking the way Evan was pointing. "I'm sure they'll find us."

Evan hopped up on a fallen branch and looked around. "I wonder where they go during the day. What they do for the rest of the month," she said.

Dean stopped and pulled a tuft of coarse, brown fur from a nearby tree trunk. Rubbing the fur through his fingers, he looked around the trees. "I don't really care," he told her.

"They are people most of the time Dean," Evan argued.

"You're not going soft on me are you?" he glanced over his shoulder at her.

"No, I'm not."

"Evan," he stopped and looked at her. "If there was another way to help them, I would. But there isn't."

"I know. I know," Evan said sadly. "Let's just find them and get this over with."

They walked in silence for a while, Evan keeping an eye on her watch. Moving among the under brush, she followed close behind Dean as he followed the trail of fur and blood. As the sky around them grew darker, they pulled their flashlights from their jacket pockets and flipped them on.

"They should be out soon," Dean said, glancing at his own watch.

Pulling the gun from the back of her jeans and the one from the holster at her leg, she racked them back and then replaced them, ready to go. Having grabbed his shotgun from the trunk of the Impala, Dean loaded two rounds into it and held it at his side and pulled his pistol from the front of his jeans. They heard the three distinct howls in the night as the moon rose high in the sky. It wouldn't be long now.

Sam glanced at his watch. Rising from his chair, he went over to the window and pulled aside the curtain. He looked up at the full moon and frowned. The Weres would be out soon. He could only hope that Dean and Evan were okay.

Hearing a groan from the bed, he turned and saw Kit beginning to thrash. Moving over to her side, he laid his hand on her forehead. Her temperature was up again, and she was sweating even more now, but she was still asleep. She arched off the bed, groaning louder. He could see the muscles in her neck stand out as she tipped her head back. Her body, although not physically ready for the change into a Were, was still reacting to the pull of the moon. Catching the hand that swung at him, Sam pushed her wrists down to the mattress, trying to keep her as still as he could so she wouldn't hurt herself.

Kit struggled against the weight on her hands. She didn't understand why she couldn't move. She kicked her legs and tried to pull away from the confining weight. She growled in frustration. Pain lanced through her body. Her eyes snapped open, and through the haze of red that colored her vision she could see Sam.

Sam could barely keep his grip on her as she tried to pull away from him. When her eyes snapped open suddenly, he cringed. The violet eyes that had fascinated him were gone. Cold, yellow eyes stared at him for a moment before she blinked and they became their normal color. They fell closed again and she stilled.

She was burning up, Sam realized, feeling the heat through his own clothes. Leaving her for just a moment, he went into the bathroom and turned the water on. Adjusting it until it was just cool to the touch, he went back to the bed.

Pulling off her boots and socks, Sam then pulled her jeans down over her hips. Throwing them off to the side, he picked her up in his arms and took her into the bathroom. Carefully laying her in the tub, he grabbed the washcloth and began to squeeze the cool water over her heated body. He carefully brushed it over her forehead.

This wasn't right. This couldn't be what was meant for her, he thought to himself.

"It's getting worse, isn't it," Kit asked him softly.

"Hey, you're gonna be fine. Dean and Evan will find the one that bit you," Sam looked down at her face, so pale, and the dark shadows under her eyes, and swallowed back his sudden fear.

"If they don't, promise me something Sam?" Her voice was weak, her eyelids already fluttering closed. The drug that Evan had given her was still strong within her system, pushing her over into sleep again.

"Anything Kit," he said softly and realized how much he meant it. He would do whatever she asked of him.

"I don't want to infect anyone else. Put me down," she said before sinking into to the oblivion of sleep once again.

Sam went cold when he understood what she was asking of him. He closed his eyes tightly. He didn't know if he could do it. There had been so much death already. "It's not going to come to that," Sam said to her, hoping against hope that Evan and Dean didn't make a liar out of him.

_**Chapter Eleven**_

The movement through the undergrowth caught Dean's attention. He stopped and held a hand behind him, motioning Evan to stop. She froze in place and listened intently. When she heard the soft snuffling growling in the brush, she tensed.

"I can't tell where they are. It sounds like they're all around us," she hissed at Dean.

"They're flanking us," he told her. He flipped the safety off of the shot gun and held it out in front of him. "Evan, get behind me."

They stood back to back, watching the foliage for any sign of movement. Evan closed her eyes and listened to the sounds around her. She could hear the breeze brushing through the trees, heard the sound of Dean's breathing and her own breathing. She slowly turned her head to the left, hearing a low snarl. Despite the fear that was picking at her, she felt a rush of adrenaline. "Dean."

"I hear it," he said softly. "There's one on the right too."

"Think they remember what happened last night?" She asked with a somewhat nervous laugh. When she heard the loud growl, she sighed. "Yeah, they remember."

"I only see two," Dean said to her. "The other one is out there though."

"It's watching. Training the other two to hunt," she whispered. "We're playthings."

"I'm nobody's plaything," he snarled, his eyes flicking back and forth between the two creatures.

"Oh, I don't know. I think you're pretty fun to play with," Evan replied, trying to break the tension that was curling through her.

"Yeah, later Sweetheart."

She tensed when she heard the twig snap. Her eyes opened slowly and she glanced to the side. She saw the movement seconds before it came. The smallest of the three Weres darted out of the woods at them. Evan focused on it quickly and fired two rounds. She heard it yelp in pain as the silver bullets pierced its hide. She braced herself and ducked as it jumped at her, it's momentum taking it over her head. As it went over her head, she felt the wind of it ruffle her hair. As soon as it cleared her, Evan stood up and began firing both guns at it, chasing behind it as it slid along the ground.

Dean hit the ground and rolled as the other Were came charging out of the undergrowth at them. He swung his shot gun towards it and quickly fired a round of silver pellets at it. The pellets dug into its fur and he heard its pained howl. He stepped out of the way as it collapsed and slid along the ground. He fired the other round, just missing it. "Evan!" He yelled, watching as it rolled towards her where she was crouched, the other Were's body hunched and ready to strike.

Evan saw the Were rolling along the ground at her. Her eyes snapped back to the one before her. It snarled in pain and anger as blood flowed from its wounds. Listening carefully, she waited until the Were was almost on her before stepping quickly aside. The two creatures collided with each other with a sickening thud.

Turning to look at Dean, Evan didn't see the mossy log that she was standing on and her foot slid off. She toppled off the log and landed in her back in the dense foliage, crying out in surprise more than pain.

"That was graceful," she muttered to herself and then stopped when she heard the low growl from behind her. Tipping her head back, she made out the upside down sight of the large Were's paws at the edge of the trees, its yellow eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "Well, there you are."

"Evan, move very slowly back towards me," Dean said to her, watching carefully as the Were took steps towards her. He kept his movements slow as he cracked the barrel of the shot gun and slid two new shells into it.

Evan rolled over very slowly, watching as the creature's eyes narrowed on her. She gripped her pistols, trying desperately to remember how many rounds she fired. Not making any sudden moves, she rolled back to her knees and then back onto her heels. Rising slowly she took a step back, freezing as the Were snarled and advanced a few quick steps. Her heart raced in her chest.

"The other two are right behind you," Dean told her softly. He kept one eye on the two Were's crouched behind Evan ready to attack, and the large one in front of her.

"You remember when I said I like to have a plan?" Evan said to him softly, reminding him of when they first met.

"Yeah," he smirked despite himself. That had started a really good argument.

"I'm drawing a blank," she told him.

"On three, guns blazing sounds good to me," Dean said.

"As far as plans go, this time not bad," Evan said in agreement.

"One," Dean started.

"Two," Evan said, slowly raising her guns.

"Three!" They shouted together and started firing.

Dean aimed first at one Were then the other. He heard their yelps as the pellets struck deep. One fell, but the other charged at Dean, he side stepped the wounded creature and then raised the pistol, firing at it as it passed. It fell and didn't get up again. He looked up in time to see the large Were was bounding at Evan.

Evan fired her pistol at the Were, and she knew that she hit it but it kept coming at her. She moved out of its way when it jumped. She dropped down and spun on the balls of her feet watching as it struck the tree trunk behind her and pushed itself off, dropping into the bushes and disappearing.

"Dammit!" She cursed vehemently.

"How could you miss it?" Dean called to her, his eyes scanning the brush.

"I didn't! I know I hit it," she told him, quickly dropping the empty clips out of the pistols and slapping new ones into place and wracking the guns. "Why the hell isn't it dying!"

"I don't know," he said coming over to her.

The Were howled loudly and charged at them from out of the brush. Dean's eyes widened for a moment as the creature headed at them, it's feral eyes gleaming eerily in the darkness. Evan raised her gun to fire, but the Were, speeding at them lowered it's head as it ran and struck her body.

Evan cried in surprise and pain as the force of the contact lifted her off her feet and threw her back into the foliage. She dropped her guns as her shoulder hit the ground and she slid in the mud and grass

"Evan!" Dean shouted as she disappeared into the brush. He started towards her, but the Were slid to a stop and turned on him. He held the pistol tightly and fired at it as it charged at him. He tried to move out of its way, the but Were's paw caught him in the abdomen and threw him. He cried in pain as his head struck one of the low lying tree branches. He fell to the ground succumbing to oblivion.

Laying her hand on one gun, she looked up and saw the Were throw Dean and her heart stopped. She heard his body hit the tree and her breath froze in her lungs. When he lay at the bottom of the tree, not moving.

"Dean!" Evan screamed, then turned her attention on the Were. First Kit, then Dean. Anger seared through her. "Why don't you die you son of a bitch!" Stalking over to the Were, she fired the gun knowing that she struck it as it howled in pain, its body jerking as each of the bullets penetrated its hide. When she got to Dean, she kept firing, driving it back away from him.

The Were turned and ran into the underbrush. Evan kneeled down and felt Dean's pulse, breathing a sigh of deep relief when she felt it thump under her fingertips. She heard the Were's wounded growl and knew that he was close-by, not quite ready to give up it's prey despite it's wounds.

"Dean? Wake up," Evan said softly, shaking him.

"Did you get it?" He mumbled.

"I shot it, but the damn thing won't die," she said keeping her ears trained on the sound of the Were.

"We have to kill it," he said slowly, struggling to gain his feet.

"I know, but I've only got one gun, and a few clips left."

"We have to get to the car," he said, taking a deep breath. His head spun and he felt a wave of nausea hit him. Forcing it back, he tried to focus.

"Problem. It's between us and the car," she told him.

"Maybe we could work our way around it," he said, swaying on his feet.

"Maybe." Evan took his arm and put it over her shoulder.

"I'm going to have that fucker stuffed and mounted when we kill it," he muttered, letting her wrap his arm over her shoulder and her arm around his waist.

"You're a special kind of idiot, you know that?" She muttered to him as they moved through the underbrush.

"Yeah, but you love me anyway," he said with a wince. Evan declined to answer.

Keeping a tight grip on Dean's waist as they wandered through the undergrowth, Evan listened for the Were. She could hear it following them, heard its low growl as it padded through the brush, but she couldn't tell if it was behind them, or in front of them.

"We're lost aren't we?" Dean asked weakly moments later.

"No, not exactly," Evan hedged.

"Where are we then?" He turned his head to look at her, groaning slightly as pain stabbed at him.

"In the swamp," she snapped irritably. "Aright? We're wandering around in a fucking swamp with a pissed off Werewolf on our asses. Is that the answer you wanted?"

"Not really," he groused, then winced. His voice echoed in his head and sent a flash of pain through it.

"What's that?" Evan asked him a short time later.

"What's what?"

"That," she said, pointing to the small square building not too far ahead of them. She frowned slightly as she looked at it in the moonlight. It was nothing special, and it looked rather run down, but right now, it looked like a castle.

"It looks like an old slave quarters," Dean said, struggling to pick the building out of the dark.

"Out here?"

"These lands used to belong to plantations. Over the years the swamp has reclaimed them."

"You know your history," Evan chuckled.

"Not just a handsome face," Dean replied but his usual cockiness was dimmed by the ringing in his head.

"I think you cracked your skull harder than I thought. You're delusional," Evan muttered. "Okay Gorgeous George let's get you inside."

_**Chapter Twelve**_

Making their way down the slight slope, they stepped onto the rotting porch. Up close, it didn't look any better than it had from a distance. In fact, it looked worse, but it had a door and a roof.

Evan leaned Dean against the door frame and pushed the door open a crack. Moonlight filtered in through the window openings, and through holes in the roof. She didn't see anything moving inside, that was a plus. Giving Dean a queasy smile that was meant to reassure him, she pushed it open wider and then took his arm. Dean closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady the swaying and then followed her inside.

"Lovely," Evan grimaced, kicking the door shut behind her. "Do you think this is where they live?"

Looking around in the weak light, Dean walked over to the stone fireplace and ran his hand over the rough stone. He coughed as the thick layer of dust was disturbed. "I don't think so." He stifled a groan as his head began to pound from the coughing fit.

"Dammit!" Evan cursed as she walked into something. Feeling her way in the dark, she ran her hands over the rough hewn wood surface. "Table," she grunted. Feeling further along the top, her hand struck something and she heard it clatter against the tabletop. Picking it up, she found a small, wooden holder with what felt like a stub of a candle. "You got any matches?"

Dean walked over to where she was and fished the battered pack of matches out of his coat pocket. Striking one, he lit the candle. It sputtered and then grew stronger.

"I'm going to be seeing this place in my nightmares," Evan said.

"Beggars can't be choosers, Sweetheart," Dean said. Taking the candle from her, he looked around the room. There wasn't a lot there. A scarred table and a chair. There was a stone fireplace that had seen better days. "Welcome to the Rat Nest Inn."

Evan chuckled softly and then laid her hands on Dean's shoulder. "Sit down. I want to check your head."

"We have to find something to board up the windows," he muttered, trying to rise from the table.

"Sit still. I'll do it," Evan said softly and then took the candle from him, raised it up and looked around the room. She frowned when she saw dark shapes on the floor. Walking over to them cautiously, she sighed in relief when she saw that they were slats of wood that might have once been shutters. Setting the candle down on the floor, she picked one up and jammed it into the window opening. Picking up the other one, she let out a startled cry and dropped it when a large spider ran across her fingers. "Spiders, there had to be spiders," she muttered ignoring the low laugh from across the room.

"Sorry, I'm fresh out of Raid," Dean told her.

Shooing the spider away, she picked up the slat and jammed it into the other window opening and then picked up the candle and went back to the table to where Dean sat with his head cradled in his hands. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he mumbled.

"You look like you're going to hurl," she said softly. She gently laid her fingertips under his chin and drew his head up. "Let me see."

"I'm fine," he said again.

"Dean, please. Let me see," Evan turned his head carefully and moved the candle to look at the wound on his head. The blood matted in his hair and dripped down the side of his face, but it had stopped flowing. That was a good sign. Holding the candle before him, she saw that one pupil was non-responsive. "It looks like you've got a bit of a concussion."

"You think?" he asked sarcastically.

"This place isn't going to be much cover against that Were if it decides to come in here," Evan said, setting the candle down on the table.

"No, but at least we'll hear him coming. He won't be able to sneak up on us," Dean said. Taking a few deep breaths, his head started to clear a little.

"We better call Sam and let him know where we are," Evan said. Reaching into the inside pocket of her jacket, she groaned and looked Heavenward. "You're killing me here."

"What?" Dean questioned her, then pulled a face when she pulled out her sparkly pink phone and watched it fall apart.

Digging in his jacket pocket and frowned. "Mine is in the car."

"Wonderful," Evan muttered.

"What do we have in the way of weapons?" Dean questioned her.

Evan sighed and pulled the saber from the scabbard on her back and set it on the table. She then tugged her last Glock out of the back waistband of her jeans and slid the clip out "It's got six rounds left. And I've got," she checked her jacket pocket, "Two more clips. So thirty rounds. But that thing doesn't seem to be reacting to the silver. It just won't die," she said wearily.

"We're just going to have to be sure to hit the heart," he told her. "That's the only way."

"We've only got one night left Dean," she said, then was hit by the weight of those words. One night left to save Kit. She turned away from him as her eyes began to sting.

"Hey," Dean said, reaching out to take her hand, giving it a gentle tug. "We'll get it."

Despite herself, Evan sniffled. "I hope so." Looking at his face, she shrugged it off. "I wonder if that fireplace works. It's going to get cold in here shortly." Walking over to the fireplace, Evan stopped suddenly. She looked down at her feet and then back up at him. She bounced slightly on the floor, feeling it spring beneath her. Remembering what happened the last time she did that, she sidestepped quickly.

"What is it?" Dean asked her, frowning at her.

"I don't know. Grab the candle will you?" Grimacing, she picked up one corner of what looked like what might have been a mat. Tossing it aside, she quirked an eyebrow at the discoloration on the floor. When Dean came over with the candle, she knelt down and ran her hand over the floor.

"It looks like some kind of cellar door," she said.

"Here's a handle," Dean pointed out and then leaned over to tug at it. The wood was warped and it stuck.

'Wait," Evan said suddenly. Rising, she went over to the table and picked up her pistol. "Can't hurt to be ready for anything."

Dean nodded taking the gun from her. "You take this and open it."

"Dean," Evan said, but stopped when he sent her an exasperated look. Taking the candle from him, she crouched down. Grasping the handle tighter, she yanked it hard, the wood creaking loudly before popping open. Throwing it open, she stepped aside and Dean trained the gun on the opening. She held her breath slightly, expecting something to rush out of the darkness at them. Holding the candle over it, Evan peered inside.

There was a rickety set of steps down into the blackness. Crouching down, Evan lowered the candle and looked around. It seemed to be a large cellar that had been carved into the earth. Along one dirt wall were what looked liked wooden crates.

"Interesting," Dean said.

"Well, nothing is jumping out at us, I'll take that as a good sign," Evan said. Holding the gun out in front of him, Dean stepped down onto the first step. "Be careful," Evan told him, then stopped when he frowned at her.

As he moved down the steps, he heard Evan move around and the cellar was filled with light as she followed behind him, the candle held high above her head. Seeing nothing hiding in the dim light, Dean tucked the pistol into the waistband of his jeans.

Evan set the candle down on the steps and moved over to one of the crates. The wood was damp in some spots but it looked fairly new. Lifting the top off of one of them, she coughed as dust floated up from the top of it. Peering inside she frowned.

"I don't think this place is as abandoned as we thought." Coming over to stand beside her, Dean reached into the crate and pulled out a plastic wrapped blanket. He rifled through the box and found a number of other blankets. "What the hell is this?" Evan picked up a package from the next crate and looked at it. Underneath it were plastic bottles full of water.

"That looks like an MRE" Dean said, looking over her shoulder.

"A what?" Evan looked at him in confusion.

"An MRE - Meal Ready to Eat. The military gives them to the soldiers in the field."

"Okay," Evan said slowly, her confusing waning a little, but then it came back. "So we have abandoned slave quarters, a hidden cellar, crates of blankets, bottles of water and Military issue food packs," she looked at him and shook her head. "What the hell is going on here? Stock piling for an enemy invasion?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders, then turned to pull the top off another crate. "We have more candles," he said, digging into the crate and pulling out a handful of them. Lighting a few of them on the one already burning, Dean gave her one of them, and then dripped some wax on the top stairs and set the ends of them into it to hold them up. The cellar grew brighter as he lit each one.

"Oh my god," he heard Evan breath and turned to find her staring at the far wall of the cellar. She stood with the candle held high above her head, her hand pressed to her mouth. He followed her gaze. Embedded into the wall were two iron loops, and from them hung two chains, each ending in wide iron manacles. Pushed up against the wall was a cot and mattress.

"I think the enemy invasion theory went out the window," he said, walking over to the wall. Picking up one of the chains, he gave it a hard tug, but it didn't budge. "Unless they're planning on taking prisoners."

"This place is creeping me out," she admitted, shuddering and walking away from the cot. Wandering deeper into the cellar, she found more crates and began poking through them. "Hey!" she cried suddenly. "I found a box of med supplies." Pulling out one of the kits, she found a small box beneath. Picking it up, she opened it and pulled out one small vial filled with a clear liquid. She read the label out loud. "Isn't this a steroid?" Evan asked, showing him the bottle.

"I think so," he frowned, looking at the bottle, then taking out another one and read the label. "So is this one. And there's no name on the bottle, so it's not a prescription. Looks like they came right from a hospital."

"This box has Demerol," she told him, poking through another one. "And there's a surgical kit."

"Hillbilly medical clinic?" Dean smirked at her. Looking into the crate he frowned. "Look at this." He said, reaching into the box and pulling out a large, leather bound journal not too different from his father's.

"Bring it over to the light, I'll patch your head while you read," Evan told him.

_**Chapter Thirteen**_

Grabbing the medical kit and one of the bottles of water, Evan and Dean went over to the stairs. They moved the candles and Dean sat down on the step. Evan opened one of the bottles and gave it a sniff. The water smelled okay and she tipped some out onto one of the sterile sponges that she found in the box. She dabbed it against the blood on Dean's head as he read.

"Sorry," she said softly when he winced.

"July 14th, 1986," he began. "I am a man of science. I do not believe in ghost stories and things that go bump in the night. They are fables told to children to get them to behave. That is, I did not believe. Until now. I was attacked last week by an animal. I say it is an animal as I did not want to believe what it was that attacked me. But it was a thing of legend, a thing that no rational person would believe in. It was a Werewolf." Dean stopped and looked at her. "You wanted to know what they did when they weren't Weres."

"Keep reading," she told him, pulling out a few bandages.

"I can already feel it begin to change me. I have read what I can about the creatures. I have become sensitive to light and sound and smell. I have tried all the normal antibiotics to rid myself of the fever, but nothing has worked. Yet. have taken a leave of absence from the hospital and my clinic. My brother, Joseph has agreed to take on many of my patients, while I try to rid myself of this disease." Dean finished the page. "It's signed Dr. Matthew Dupre."

"And Joseph would be Dr. Dupre, Head and only Coroner, " Evan closed her eyes and shook her head. With a frustrated sigh, she began to pace the cellar. "He knew. He knew what his brother was becoming and he did nothing about it. And I bet he even became the coroner so he could cover up his brother's killings. And that Sheriff," she muttered.

"I think you're right," Dean said, scanning the pages and flipping through them. He picked a page and kept reading. "Tonight is the night before the full moon. I can feel the draw of it and it scares me. I have decided to go to my family's ancestral plantation house. The building itself was abandoned well before my parents were even born. The swamps reclaimed it, but the land is still owned by my family. Far behind the plantation house is an old slave quarters. There were stories that my great great grandfather," Dean suddenly stopped reading aloud.

Evan looked at him. "What?"

"We'll skip this part," he said.

"What does it say?"

"They used to bring slaves here to punish them," Dean told her and cursed as he saw her face pale.

"Their whole family is barbaric," she snapped suddenly.

Dean scanned the rest of the page, reading out certain passages as Evan paced the floor. "It looks like he chained himself here against that wall to keep himself from hurting anyone," Dean told her. "I have drawn my blood and have given it to Joseph. He has agreed to process it for me. I have a theory that if I inject myself with enough of the antibodies, perhaps I can build up an immunity to the change and reverse the infection."

"He was trying to find a cure?" Evan stopped and looked at Dean.

"Looks like it."

"Keep going," she told him. As he read, Evan went over to one of the crates and picked up one of the MRE's. "How long do these things last?" She asked him.

"Years. But they taste like crap," he told her, then looked up at her. "MRE also meant Meals Rejected by Everyone," he explained. "My father gave them to us when we went on hunting trips."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he told her, and then went back to reading the journal.

Evan looked through the rest of the crates while she listened. All she could find were the food packs. Sighing, she ripped one open. Poking through it, she found the pack with the crackers. Looking at it warily, she pulled one out and bit into it. Her face crumpled as the taste hit her. "Oh my god. These taste like sawdust. How did our guys ever survive on these?"

"They ordered their taste buds to stand down," he smirked and went back to flipping through the journal.

Evan sat down on the step beneath him, and leaned back against his legs, slowly munching the crackers. Having lost her lunch earlier in the day, she was desperate enough to choke them down.

"It looks like he mixed the antigens from the blood with the steroids," Dean told her.

"He might have been trying to build up an immunity, but the steroids, with changing his metabolism, changed the affect the antigens had on him, which is why he wasn't cured," Evan theorized. "But he should still be vulnerable to silver. So why did that not kill him?"

"I don't know," Dean answered. Slapping the journal closed, he said to her. "I need some aspirin."

"There's some in the med kit over there," she told him, taking the journal and flipping it open to where he left off. Rising from the step, Dean went over to the crate with the medical supplies and rifled through it. Finding the bottle, he saw that the date had expired. With a growl he tossed them back into the box. His head was pounding.

"This goes on with a record of each time he changed. His writings get more erratic." Looking up at Dean, she saw him grimace. She set the journal beside her on the step. "Come here," she said to him.

"Why?"

"Do you always have to argue with me?" she asked him. Sighing, Dean came over to her. Evan parted her legs and motioned for him to sit. He continued to look at her skeptically, but then sat down on the step. He stiffened slightly when Evan laid her hands on the back of his head and pushed it down gently. When her fingers touched the back of his neck, he shuddered. Her fingers were freezing.

"Sorry,' she mumbled and he heard her blow on them and rub them together. When she again laid her fingers on his neck, they were warmer. Evan began to move her fingers over Dean's neck, working the tension from him. She slid her fingers into his hair, rubbing his scalp. She tried to push aside the shudder as the soft strands curled around her finger. Careful not to touch the wound on his head, she moved her fingers around to his temples and began to rub them. She smiled softly when Dean's head tipped back against her and he let out a soft groan as he felt the throbbing in his head lessen.

Dean tipped his head back farther, and looked up at Evan. He saw that her eyes were closed as she worked her fingers over his head, her lips were parted slightly, and he heard the soft hitch in her breath. When she licked her lips and then caught her bottom lip between her teeth, he swallowed. He felt his heart begin to thump harder and he shifted on the step, his jeans tightening suddenly. He reached up and grasped her wrists and pulled them away from his head.

Her eyes flew open in surprise when Dean suddenly took hold of her wrists. She looked down at him. "What? Did I hurt you?" Not answering her, Dean turned on the step and kneeled before her. Releasing her wrists, he leaned into her, brushing his lips against hers, letting them linger for a moment before pulling back to look at her. "We shouldn't do this," she said to him, her voice a mere whisper.

"No, we shouldn't," he answered.

Her eyes, normally dark, darkened even more as she looked at him. He reached out, slid his hand around the back of her neck. She shivered as he touched her, but didn't pull away. When she licked her lips again, it was too much for him. He half pulled her mouth up to his as he lowered his head, taking hers. She groaned into his mouth.

Sliding his fingers into her hair, he ran them through the long mass, freeing it from the ponytail she had it in. The soft strands curled around his fingers and he held it tightly, drawing her head back as he moved between her legs, his mouth bearing down on her, pushing her back against the step. Evan opened her mouth to him, whimpering softly as his tongue slid inside, curling around her own. Raising her hands, she tugged his T-shirt from his jeans and slid her fingers against his abdomen. Evan felt him shiver as her cool fingers touched his warm skin. She moved her feet to hook around the back of his legs, pulling him closer to her.

Dean growled softly into her mouth, pressing himself against her, rocking his hips slowly. Evan tore her mouth away from his, gasping as she felt him against her. She gripped her nails into his sides and heard him hiss against her neck, burying his mouth against the soft skin. She clenched her eyes shut and arched slightly off the step when he pressed a biting kiss against her skin. She could feel his teeth run along the sensitive skin and it made her shake. When he drew the skin into his mouth, she couldn't help the groan that was torn from her lips. Her muscles tightened and she could feel the throbbing growing between her legs. She pushed her hips up against him and felt him grind back in response.

Pulling his mouth from her neck, Dean straightened up a little and grasped her shoulders, pulling her up a little to push her jacket off of her shoulders. He shrugged out of his own and swept it around her head to lay it on the step. Cupping her neck, he took her mouth and laid her back against the stairs. As their mouths moved together, Dean moved his hands down from her neck, sliding over the mounds of her breasts. Feeling her hard nipples under the heat of his hand, he grinned against her mouth. Freeing the buttons of her shirt, he tugged it open, breaking the kiss.

Reaching out, he flipped open the front snap of her bra and immediately leaned down to capture one hard nipple in his mouth. His tongue slid around it, his teeth caught at it, tugging on it. He heard Evan groan low in her throat, felt her hips grind against him. She dug her fingers in his hair and held his mouth to her breast. She whimpered when he let it go and blew softly on the damp skin. Taking her other nipple, he lavished his attention on it.

"Dean," she moaned, her skin flushing, her heart pounding so hard. Her breath left her when Dean pulled himself free of her legs and trailed his wet tongue down over her stomach and circled it around her navel. He looked up at her, and found her watching him. Those dark eyes that could cut him down with a mere look were filled with something he couldn't explain. Tipping his head down, he gave the edge of her navel a light nip and heard her hiss.

Sliding his hands down to her hips, he undid her jeans and folded them open, the tip of his tongue dipping down to run along the edge of the black lace panties she wore. His thumbs hooked into the waistband of her panties and jeans and pulled her legs up to tug them over her hips, then down her legs. He tossed them up onto one of the crates and then pulled her boots off, dropping them to the ground.

Turning back to her, he felt his body tighten more as he looked down at her, her hair wild and free, her mouth swollen, her eyes dark, her breathing hard for him, her legs slightly parted, almost vulnerable. He'd never wanted her so much as he did right now. Laying his hands on her knees he gently pushed them apart. He kneeled on the lower step and pressed his mouth against the inside of her leg. His rough hands moved up her thighs, his damp mouth following. Evan shuddered as she felt his tongue tracing slow, lazy patterns along one thigh, his warm breath, the rough scratch of his stubble against her skin. He moved higher, just teasing the top of her thigh before moving to the other one.

Evan reached down to touch the top of his head, but he suddenly grasped her wrists and held them against her thighs as he pushed her legs wider beneath him. She made a soft noise as he reached the top of her thigh. Releasing her hands, he moved his fingers up her thighs to slide over her hips, holding them tightly. Leaning into her, Dean breathed in her scent as he slid his tongue out to slowly circle around her lips, just teasing the edge. He moved his head back slightly when she shifted her hips, trying to make him touch where she wanted.

Evan bit her bottom lip between her teeth, her hips shifting under him, her frustration growing when he refused to touch the one spot she needed most. The ache between her legs was growing unbearable. When he laid his fingers against her lips and spread them carefully, she sighed, only to gasp when she felt the cool stream of air wash over her hot damp core. She arched off the stairs in surprise as her body shook. Dean held tight to her hips, not letting her escape as he continued to torture her. Evan gripped the edge of the stair she was sitting on, her hips rocking.

"Jesus, Dean!" she cried softly. Pressing his mouth against her suddenly, he captured the hard little bud between his lips and pinched it softly, making her shudder. He darted his tongue out and rubbed the tip against her slowly. He looked up between her legs and watched as she dropped her head back, her body writhing. She tried to dislodge him, but he held tight to her, teasing her.

Evan bit harder at her lip, trying not to cry out. Her head was spinning. Her body felt like liquid flame, every nerve ending blazing pleasure through her. It was intense, it was maddening. It was heavenly. And she didn't want it to end. She clenched her eyes shut and tipped her head back, fighting for breath to calm herself. When Dean nipped at her, she couldn't stop it. The pleasure broke free and made her cry out as her hips lifted off the stair against his mouth. She dragged in rough breaths, her skin breaking out in a sweat.

Hearing her cry, Dean didn't let up. His tongue trailed over her, making her whimper softly as her body shuddered again and again. He finally pulled his mouth away from hers and moved up to cup the back of her neck, pulling her mouth up to his. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, curling around hers.

Tasting herself on him was new to her, but she couldn't pull away. He groaned into her mouth and deepened the kiss. Evan pulled at his shirt, tugging it up his chest. He broke from her mouth long enough to pull the shirt over his head before taking her mouth once again. Stretching out over her, rubbing against her hard nipples. He groaned into her mouth feeling the peaks scrape at his skin. Evan undid his jeans and slid her hand inside, curling around the hard length of him. She grinned against his mouth when he groaned low in his throat.

Stroking her hand over the length of him, could feel him swell more beneath her touch. He pulled his mouth free of hers and laid his forehead against hers, his breath coming out in rough gasps. He braced himself with his hands on either side of the step where her head rested. Looking into his eyes, she felt herself drawn into the intense green of them. He clenched his jaw, trying to keep his body calm, but it was a struggle. The pad of her thumb rubbed the little spot under the head and he thought his legs were going to crumble.

"Damn Evan," he shuddered her name and she found that it was the most erotic sound she'd ever heard. She needed him.

"Dean," she started, looking at him and actually blushed. Pulling away from her, Dean dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet. Fishing inside, he pulled out a little square package. Evan took it from his fingers and quickly took care of it. Dean shuddered as her fingers moved over him as she did and he knew he couldn't wait any longer. He moved between her legs and grasped her hips, bringing her closer to him. Evan nuzzled her mouth against the side of his neck, nipping at his skin as the head of him teased along her lips, her wetness clinging to him before he pushed into her, sheathing himself inside of her with one stroke.

Evan gasped, and slid her arms up around his shoulders, holding him tight as her body adjusted around the thickness of him. Her legs wrapped around his and she shifted on the step, ignoring it as it dug into her back. She rocked her hips slowly, feeling him move slightly inside of her. Hearing his short breaths, she began to move a little more.

Dean tried to control his breathing, but the way her muscles clenched around his drove him near the edge. He gripped her hips tight and began to move his body. When he pulled out of her tightness, he groaned as she squeezed him tightly. Thrusting back into her, he heard her soft cry in his ear, each cry growing louder as he thrust into her again and again. He felt her legs tighten around him, pulling him deeper against her. She slid her fingers into his hair, tugging his head back she shuddered as he focused those intense green eyes on her. His jaw clenched tighter as she pushed her hips up against him.

"Damn Evan," he growled suddenly when she propped her elbows on the stair and let her legs fall from around him. Bracing her feet on the bottom step, she pushed her hips up to meet his again and again. Dean grabbed her hips tightly and pulled her up against him. He turned and sat down on the stair, resting her on his lap. Evan looked down at him and slowly rose up, then let herself slide down the length of him. Her fingers curled into his chest, leaving marks from her nails. Dean's eyes slid closed and he shuddered as he could feel the warm tight canal of her body envelop him. He growled as she slowly circled her hips, grinding against him before started to move faster, gripping him tighter.

Evan shuddered as she felt the length of him move inside of her. The thickness of him stretched her. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, her blood racing. Tipping her head back, she moaned long and low in her throat. When Dean reached up to cup her breasts, she shook. His damp mouth enveloped one nipple, his teeth worrying it. He captured her other one between his fingers and tugged at it. Evan pushed herself faster, harder against him. Her fingers dug into his hair and pulled his head back. She stared into his eyes, watching them darken.

"Evan," he began, but she put her mouth against his, silencing him. He held her tight against him as she moved, trembling as she pushed herself harder. When her body stiffened against him and she pulled her mouth away from his, he moved his hands down to her hips, gripping them tightly as she began to shake. Her head fell back and her eyes slid closed. Her breath came in raspy gasps.

"Oh god, Dean!" She cried suddenly, gripping his shoulders. Her body jerked and her moan turned to a soft keening sound. Dean grasped her hips and moved them around, laying her against the stairs. He pushed himself deep into her as she clamped around the length of him. She held onto his shoulders as he kept thrusting into her, her legs wrapping around his hips. Her body moved with him and she panted in his ear.

"Evan!" He growled in to her ear, his breath coming in short hard pants. His body jerked and she held him tight as his release hit him hard. He curled his arms around her tightly, burying his mouth against her neck.

They lay there for a few moments, shaking in each others arms, their bodies entwined. Evan's fingers curled in his hair and she tugged his head back playfully, "Think one day we might actually make it to a bed?"

"What? And break our streak?" he smirked and then kissed her when she opened her mouth to protest.

_**Chapter Fourteen**_

"Dean's phone keeps ringing, and Evan's just goes to voicemail. I've left three messages now," Sam told Kit.

"Where the hell are they?" Kit said as she rose from the bed. The GHB that Evan had slipped her, and she was going to have a talk to her sister about that, had worn off about an hour ago. The fever was still burning her system, but she insisted on moving around. The wound was almost healed, thanks to the apparently restorative healing powers of turning into a Were. "We should go out and find them. They might be in trouble," Kit said, heading for the table to grab her satchel.

"It'll be morning soon. Let's give them a little while longer. Besides if I let you go out there, Evan will kill me," he said, trying to get her to smile.

"If it hasn't killed them already," she said worriedly.

"It hasn't. They know what they're doing, Kit," Sam said.

"She's my sister Sam. I should be out there with her," Kit said in frustration as she snapped the satchel shut.

Walking over to her, Sam took her shoulders and turned her around. "And Dean's my brother. I have faith in him."

"I have faith too Sam, but," she told him, then shrugged, not knowing what to say.

"They'll be okay," Sam assured her. Kit felt the tears sting her eyes and felt a wave of angry frustration come over her. She couldn't seem to get a hold on her emotions lately. She was not normally prone to tears, but now as they dripped down her cheeks, she couldn't get them to stop. "It'll be okay," Sam said to her. He folded his arms around her slender shoulders and held her as she began to shake. He kissed the top of her head when he heard her sob quietly.

Kit wiped at her eyes and looked up at him, giving him a watery smile. Rising up on her tip-toes, she pressed a soft kiss to his chin. Pulling her head back a little she rose up higher and tried to press a kiss to his mouth, but Sam moved his head.

"Sam?" Kit frowned.

"We can't," he said softly, regretfully. Kit looked down, frustrated as the tears started to sting her eyes again. If she kissed him, she risked infecting him. Her heart caught in her chest. She couldn't let that happen.

Dean frowned and opened his eyes. He looked at the spot on the cot where they had moved afterwards and found it empty. The candles had burned down during the time that he had fallen asleep. He pushed himself up onto his elbow when he saw Evan sitting on the stairs surrounded by candles, his jacket wrapped around her body. He watched her for a moment. She tucked a strand of her long red hair behind her ear and munched slowly one of the crackers from the MRE as she flipped through he journal. He smiled softly when he saw the grimace that crossed her face.

"What are you doing?"

Looking up from the journal, she gave him a half smile. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." Rising from the step, she grabbed one of the candles and brought it over to the cot. Dean sat up and let her sit down beside him. "I was reading."

"Find out anything more?" Dean asked her as he reached for his jeans and pulled them on, sitting back down beside her.

"Yeah. It looks like the antigen therapy wasn't working at all and he would come here and lock himself up so he wouldn't hurt anyone. But he got free one night. And that was the night of his first kill," Evan looked a little ill at ease, but she continued. "He writes about it. He remembered everything about it. He writes about the thrill he got from it. It goes on, some pretty gruesome stuff. After that first night, he stopped locking himself up. He decided that he was better than everyone else. And that he had been gifted by God," she said.

"Great. A Werewolf with a God complex?" Dean muttered, taking one of the crackers from her and popping it into his mouth.

Evan nodded slowly. "I also found out why he's not reacting to the silver," she said, flipping through the journal to another page. "It looks like Dr. Demento was pumping himself up with the steroids during the rest of the month to make himself stronger and then was injecting silver into his body. He built up a tolerance to it." She looked at him.

"Great," Dean muttered. "And with the steroids and who knows what else this guy has been injecting himself with, that would explain why the rounds we fired at him are having no effect."

"He's like a junkie on PCP. The shots don't phase him. And with the quick healing that he has being a Were," she trailed off. "The only way to kill this thing is decapitation," she told him.

"So no guns. We take machetes, your grandfather's saber. It brings us closer to it than I'd like, but," Dean rose and started to pace the cellar floor.

"Dean, there's something else," Evan said softly.

"What?"

"Those two smaller Weres that we killed," she paused. "They weren't his victims. They were his children."

"His children? He bit his own kids?" Dean looked appalled.

"No, he didn't bite them. They were born that way." She took a deep breath and then continued, "In the latter part of the journal, he talks about a woman named Elizabeth. She had been a nurse at the hospital where he worked. He targeted her, attacked her and bit her. He brought her here. He details what happened to her. Dean, she had the same symptoms as Kit does right now."

He was almost afraid to ask. "What happened to her?"

"During the rest of the month she would have nothing to do with him. But at the time of the full moon, her hormones went into overdrive. During one of these times, she became pregnant. Apparently it was a difficult pregnancy. And she died during the birth. He ended up having to do a cesarian. They were twins. A boy and a girl."

"Don't feel sorry that they're dead, Evan," Dean told her.

"They were just kids Dean. They would have been sixteen. They didn't deserve to be what they were."

"They would have killed us last night. And done it happily," he said to her, kneeling before her and taking the journal from her, setting it on the cot so he could take her hands. "They've killed. They know the taste of blood and wouldn't have stopped killing."

"I know," she sighed. Pushing off the melancholy, she took hold of Dean's wrist and looked at his watch. "It's sunup. He should be gone back to the family plantation. We need to get back and check on Kit."

Evan shrugged out of Dean's jacket and pulled on her clothes. She hunted around for her boots and wriggled into them. Following him up the stairs, they crossed the floor to the door. Pushing it open, they looked around but found no sign of movement. They kept a close eye open as they walked through the bayou. When they came to the clearing, they found that the bodies of the two young Weres had been dragged away.

"I think Dad is gonna be pissed with us," Dean said.

"Gee, ya think?" Scouring through the foliage, they found the guns they had lost the night before and tucked them away. They made their way back to the Impala in silence and climbed into it wearily. Dean found his phone sitting on the front seat and flipped it open.

"Looks like Sammy's been calling," he said, then listened to the messages.

"Is Kit okay?' Evan asked him anxiously.

"Yeah, he just wanted to know what the hell was taking us so long." Dean started the engine and backed out of the parking area. Hitting the road, he tried to call his brother, but the battery was low so he tossed it up onto the dashboard.

"We'll be there soon," he told Evan, noticing that she was fidgeting. "If something was wrong with Kit he would have said."

"I know," she sighed. "I'm just worried about her. If we don't get the son-of-a-bitch tonight,' she let the thought go unfinished.

"We'll get him. We know his weakness now."

"Um Dean? He doesn't seem to have any weakness's," she pointed out.

"Yeah he does. Decapitation," he sent her a cocky smile and Evan shook her head.

They pulled into the motel parking lot a short time later and parked the car. Climbing wearily out of the car, they gathered their things and went into Dean's room. They found Sam sitting up on the bed, his head tipped back as he slept. Kit sat with her back to him, his arms folded around her stomach. Her eyes snapped open immediately when they entered.

"You two look like hell," she said and the sound of her voice jarred Sam awake. He rubbed his eyes with his fingers and blinked at them.

"What happened to your head?" He asked his brother focusing on the bandage on the side of his head.

"A tree jumped out and hit me," he answered.

"Where have you two been? We've been trying to get a hold of you all night," Kit demanded, looking at her sister with a worried frown.

Evan dropped wearily into a chair, and Dean sank into the other one. "We had a little trouble getting back"

"Did you get them?" Sam questioned then noticed the look that passed between Evan and Dean. "You didn't."

"We got two. The smaller ones," Dean told them.

"The smaller ones? That doesn't help me!" Kit said sharply.

'Kit," Sam began, but she cut them off.

"Your main target was the large one. The one that bit me, remember? The smaller ones mean nothing!" Kit finished in disgust and then turned her back on them.

"I'm sorry Kit," Evan said to her sister.

"Sorry doesn't help." Kit paced the room in irritation.

"No wait just a second," Dean began, rising from his chair.

"Dean, no. She's right," Evan said softly, stopping him. "It doesn't." Evan looked at her sister pacing the floor and clenched her jaw shut. She knew that Kit was frustrated. And from what she knew was in the journal, she knew that her emotions and her hormones were wreaking havoc with her. She couldn't let what Kit said affect her.

"We've got one more chance. We'll get it tonight," he assured her.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I'm going to go take a shower."

"And some sleep," he ordered her.

"Evan," Kit said suddenly, turning to look at her sister in dismay.

"I'm going to take a shower," Evan repeated firmly and then got up from her chair and walked out of the room.

"I'm sorry," Kit said, looking at Dean, then moved around the bed to the door to follow her sister.

"Are you okay?" Sam questioned his brother. "What happened?" Dean wearily told his brother about what had happened, and what they found out in the cellar. "He's going to be ready for us tonight," Sam said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "And pissed."

"Yeah. And since silver has no affect, we have to find another way to kill him."

_**Chapter Fifteen**_

Evan was sitting on the edge of the bed when Kit came in. She looked up at her sister and sighed, "I'm sorry Kit, I tried."

"I'm sure," Kit replied, coldly.

Evan's head snapped up at the tone in her sisters voice, "Excuse me?"

"I'm sure you tried. Why didn't you just shoot it?" Kit folded her arms over her chest and stared at her sister. Evan looked at her, stunned for a moment.

"I tried. I emptied two clips of silver tipped bullets at it. It's built up an immunity to silver."

"Right," Kit said flatly.

"Kit, we found a journal, his journal. He tried to cure himself, but it didn't work. In the process, he built up an immunity to silver."

"You probably missed it," Kit sneered at her.

"I don't miss," Evan said slowly, her anger rising at Kit's tone.

"You were sent to do one thing, and you couldn't even do that."

"You know what, I'm going to ignore this attitude of yours. I know that this infection is seriously screwing with your hormones. I'm going to take a shower." Evan rose from the bed and snapped open her bag, pulling out a fresh change of clothes.

"It's too late," Kit said coldly.

"Too late for what?" Evan sighed.

"I can smell it already."

"Smell what?"

"Him," Kit told her. "Dean. I can smell him on you."

"What are you talking about?"

Kit sneered at her. "You just couldn't wait to get into the backseat with him again, could you?"

"It wasn't," Evan began and then shook her head. "I don't have to justify myself to you."

"You're right, you don't. Except when you're more concerned with getting your rocks off than in stopping me from joining the fuzzy moonlover's club for good!"

"That's not true!" Evan cried, throwing down the clothes she had taken out. "That is not true and you know it!"

"Than why didn't you call?"

"I couldn't. Dean left his phone in the car."

"You had yours."

"I couldn't use mine," Evan told her.

"Why?"

"It fell apart," Evan said truthfully. She didn't want her sister to know how it had come to fall apart. Although it didn't seem like it now, she knew that Kit would be upset if she knew the truth.

"That's bullshit. Cell phones do not fall apart. Why didn't you call?"

"I told you, I couldn't," Evan said evenly and then turned towards the bathroom.

Kit grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. Evan winced at the pain that flared up from her shoulder. During the night it had started to stiffen from where she had impacted with the ground and slid.

"Because you were too busy fucking Dean," Kit snarled at her and for a moment Evan could have sworn her eyes flared a bright yellow.

"No," she snapped back suddenly. "You want to know how a cell phone could fall apart?" She grasped the edge of her t-shirt and yanked it off, showing her sister the large bruise that had formed on her chest during the night. In the center was a darker square, the shape of a cell phone. "It falls apart when it's caught between your breastbone and the skull of a an abnormally large and extremely pissed off Werewolf when it rams you and sends you flying!"

"Oh my god Evan," Kit said suddenly, gasping as she pressed her fingers to her mouth trying to stifle the sudden tears that sprung to her eyes when she saw the bruise.

"I emptied two fucking clips into that son-of-a-bitch and it didn't even phase it. It hit me like a linebacker and sent me flying. It grabbed Dean and threw him head first into a tree. We had to run or die. We tried the kill the fucker for you and could have been killed in the process. Maybe what Dean and I did afterwards wasn't the wisest thing to do, but you know what? I don't give two shits what you think about it. I was just glad the two of us were alive."

Kit reached out a hand to touch her, but Evan stepped back from her, pulling her shirt back on. "Evan," she whispered.

"Maybe I should have been thinking more about you. I don't know. But I'm human Kit." Tears sprang to Evan's eyes but she forcefully pushed them away. Turning, she grabbed her keys off fo the table. "I have to get out of here."

"Evan, don't go," Kit reached for her arm again but let go when Evan hissed in a pained breath. Kit watched her sister throw open the door and walk out of the motel room.

"Evan?" Dean called her name, but she didn't respond as she got into her car and slammed the door. Moments later she pulled out of the parking lot with a squeal of the tires.

"What happened?" Sam asked Kit as she came to the door and watched her sister pull out.

"Sister stuff," she said to him sadly.

"Dean's got something here you should see," Sam said.

The three of them went into the motel room and Dean showed Kit the journal. As she read it, her spirits sagged. Evan had tried to tell her, but she hadn't listened.

"I found the county records for the property owned by the Dupre family. And I also found a historical map of the area. It looks like the Dupre house isn't too far from the clearing," Sam said as he searched the Internet.

"This is where the shack that we found last night was," Dean said, pointing to a spot on the map.

Kit came over to look over Sam's shoulder. As she stood next to Dean, she detected Evan's familiar scent. She turned her head slightly and looked at him. He had showered, she could smell the scent of his soap, but her sister's scent was still on him, on his jacket.

"Damn," Sam said as he looked around. "I found something last night that I wanted to show you guys. I left it in the room. I'll be right back." Rising from his chair he left the motel room.

"Did Evan say where she was going?" Dean asked Kit, sitting down on her bed.

"No, she just left," Kit said watching him closely.

"Oh," he said simply. He moved the ball of clothes on the bed, not realizing that his hand lingered on the shirt. He looked up at Kit and then down again when he found that she was staring at him.

"I know about what happened last night. With you and Evan," Kit said. She heard his heartbeat speed up, saw his mouth open to protest. "Don't bother."

"Kit," he began.

"Dean, I'm only going to say this once. If you make Evan cry, I won't need to Were out to shred you to pieces."

_**Chapter Sixteen**_

Pulling into the parking lot of the bar where she had worked their first night in town, Evan climbed out of the car and walked over to the door. She saw the "Closed" sign on the door and frowned. As she stood there, one of the bouncers walked out.

"Hey Evan," he said to her.

Evan gave him her best smile although she couldn't remember his name, "Hi."

"The boys kept asking about you last night," he told her as he threw one of the garbage bags into the dumpster that had been moved to the front for the clean up.

"Had a family thing," she said vaguely.

"You look like hell," he said to her. "Looks like you could use a drink."

"That sounds great," she smiled at him and followed him inside and went over to the bar. She looked at the upturned tables and then at the man behind the bar. She searched her memory for his name. "Looks like you had a fun night," she paused. "Steve."

"It was a fun one alright. Full moon brings out all the crazies."

"Tell me about it," she muttered. "Can I get a double Jack?"

"Sure Hon," he said as he set a glass on the table and poured her drink. "I shouldn't be doing this. We're not supposed to serve yet. But Cooper's not around," he said, indicating the owner of the bar.

"I won't tell if you don't," she pasted a bright smile on her face and took the glass. Swallowing a healthy mouthful of the hard amber liquid, she shuddered. It had been a long time since she'd had anything harder than a beer, had to take it slow she cautioned herself. As she sipped her drink, Kit's caustic words ran through her mind and stabbed at her heart. Had she been too interested in being with Dean that she had put Kit out of her mind? She didn't know. For so long it had just been Kit and her. Now? Now things were different. She wasn't focusing on what she was doing.

When she had looked at Dean last night when he had been sleeping, the sight of the bandage had frightened her. He could have been killed because of her. And Kit could have been killed the night before. That would never have happened before.

"You want another one?" Steve asked her.

Evan looked down at the empty glass before her and shook her head. "No, thanks. I just needed a bracer," she smiled and rose from the stool. Digging in her pocket she threw down a bill for the drink and walked out of the bar.

Climbing into her car, she started it and pulled out of the parking lot. She avoided going back to the motel. She didn't feel like facing the questions there right now. Instead she found herself pulling into the parking lot of the medical building. Parking the car, she sat for a moment staring out the window. A few minutes later she he saw a familiar form and climbed out of the car, jogging over the grass to the pathway leading to the doors.

"Dr. Dupre," she said and the man stopped.

"Dr. Scully. Or whatever the hell your name is. I know you're not with the CDC. They have no record of you or an investigation going on down here," he said sharply and then turned on his heel to walk up the stairs.

"I know about your brother Matthew," she called out to him.

Joseph Dupre stopped, his hand on the door handle. He turned and looked at her. "Come into my office." He said slowly. Evan followed him up the stairs into the reception area and then down the hall to his office. The doctor was precise about hanging up his coat and setting his briefcase on his desk before he sat down. He motioned for her to sit down. "Before you fall down," he said when she hesitated. "You look terrible."

"That's the consensus lately," she answered dryly.

"What do you know of my brother?"

"I know what he's become," she said. When he looked like he was going to scoff, she rushed on. "I found his journal. I read the entries."

Joseph Dupre looked at the young woman sitting across from him. The dark red hair was tangled, her face was impossibly pale, making the dark circles under her eyes stand out even more. Her clothes were stained with dirt.

"My brother," he began, wondering if she could possibly understand.

"Is a Werewolf." He looked almost relieved when she finished his sentence. "You've been protecting him," she said. "That's why you never reported the attacks. That's why you came to the coroner's office. You could fake the reports. You and Dell."

"Yes," Joseph said simply.

"And the other two were your niece and nephew."

"Were? They're dead?" His face fell at the slow nod of her head. "Maybe it's for the best."

"Knowing what you know, how could you let them keep killing?"

"They're my family," he said simply. "Wouldn't you do anything to protect your family?"

"Yes, I would," Evan said softly.

"I couldn't hurt my brother," he told her.

"Which means that I have to. Your brother infected my sister, my little sister. She's already starting to change. In order to save my sister, I have to kill your brother."

"Why are you here?"

"I don't know," she told him honestly. "I guess I just wanted you to know why they had to die." Evan rose from her chair and looked at him. "I'm sorry, but I can't lose my sister."

"What's to stop me from calling Dell and having him arrest you?"

"Other than I think you are tired of covering for your brother? Nothing," she said and walked out of his office. Stepping out of the building into the growing sunshine, Evan went over to the Thunderbird and climbed in. She pulled out of the parking lot and headed back to the motel. She needed to get some sleep.

Hearing the siren wailing behind her, she sighed tiredly and pulled over. She threw the car in park and waited while Sheriff Dell climbed out of the car and come over to her car. Guess the good Doctor wasn't as tired as she thought.

"Hello Dr. Scully," Dell Dupre drawled slowly at her.

"Morning Sheriff."

"Dr. Scully, I have to say, I don't like it when people come down and start interfering with my town. And my family."

"So Joseph did call you," she sighed.

"No, he didn't. My brother would let you get away with what you've done. I won't."

"And what is that Sheriff?"

"Don't play dumb with me Missy," he growled.

Evan felt a curl of unease in her stomach. She glanced around, but found that she had no weapons in reach. "So you're going to arrest me, are you?"

"No, I ain't gonna arrest you," he drawled, a sickeningly sweet smile on his face. "If there's anything left of you after Matty gets done with you, now then I might arrest you." His smile dropped and he reached into the car, something small and black in his hand.

"Oh shit," she muttered and pushed herself across the seat when she heard a familiar crackle. His hand stabbed at her leg and Evan felt a bolt of electricity run through her body. She screamed in pain and then everything went black.

"Where the hell is Evan?" Dean muttered hours later. He looked at his watch and then out the motel window. The sun was due to set in just over an hour.

"I don't know," Kit said worry filling her. It wasn't like Evan to take off for so long. She knew that Evan had been upset when she left. "You don't think she's done something stupid, do you?"

"I don't think so," Sam tried to assure Kit, hearing the worry in her voice.

"Sam, I have to go," Dean said, looking at his watch again.

"I'm coming with you," Kit said, picking up her jacket.

"No you're not," Dean said to her.

"You can't stop me Dean," Kit retorted. "I have to find Evan, and we have to kill this thing. Tonight is the last night."

"Don't you think I know that Kit?" Dean snapped at her. "Look, I will find your sister. Right now I don't think that it's a good idea for the two of you to be in the same room."

'What's that supposed to mean?"

"It doesn't mean anything," Sam said, stepping between Kit and his brother. He shot a look over his shoulder at Dean.

"If you have something to say Dean, than say it!" Kit snarled at him.

"Alright, I will," Dean shoved his arms into his jacket sleeves and pulled it on.

"Stop it you two!" Sam shouted suddenly. "Fighting isn't going to get us anywhere."

"Sam, keep an eye on her while I'm gone," Dean told his brother and then walked out of the motel room.

"Sam, I can't just sit here and wait. I have to do something," she argued, trying to get around him.

Sam sighed, hoping it wouldn't come to this, but he grabbed her arm and pulled the cuffs from his pocket and slapped one around her wrist. Kit stopped in her tracks and looked at him, stunned.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, tugging her arm.

"Kit, you can't go out there. You're changing so quickly, the Were that bit you is going to come looking for you if you're out there. Dean's going to find Evan, and they are going to get the Were tonight."

"They couldn't get it before, what makes you think they're going to get it tonight?"

"Because now they know what will kill it," he told her, snapping the other cuff around her wrist, he held onto her shoulders and walked her back towards the bed, sitting her down on it.

"And what if they can't?"

"Then I will," Sam told her, and then sat down in the chair across from her.

"Why the cuffs?"

"Because it's the only way I can get you to stay put," he grinned at her. "Now, Dean will call us when he finds Evan, and then he will call us when they kill the Were. So you and I are going to have a nice quiet night."

_**Chapter Seventeen**_

Evan groaned softly and opened her eyes. She shook her head to clear the fog from her mind. Pain flared from her shoulder as she moved. Swallowing dryly, she winced at the dim light that filled the room. Tipping her head back, she saw the thick beams of the ceiling. Focusing on the ceiling she saw the two chains attached to it, following them down to the thick manacles around her wrists. Her feet barely touched the ground. "Wonderful," she groused, rattling the chains, wincing as the pain flared down through her shoulder again.

"Well hello sleepy head," Sheriff Dupre said from the corner of the room.

"Well if it's not Captain Zap Happy," she muttered. Her eyes were focusing in the dim light and she saw another figure move into the circle of light. "And you must be Doctor Mengele."

"You're funny," Dell said to her.

"Well I did work a little comedy club in San Francisco for a while," Evan said sarcastically. She wasn't ready for the sudden punch to her jaw that the Sheriff gave her. She spit the blood from her mouth. "That's gonna leave a mark." She shook her head slowly. "I was really off. I thought Joseph was tired of covering for you. I guess I was wrong. He called you and told you, didn't he," she asked the Sheriff.

"Actually I saw you and your boyfriend leaving the woods this morning. And then I found the bodies of my niece and nephew."

"I'm going to enjoy ripping you to shreds for that," Matthew Dupre told her, standing before her and looking at her. Evan suppressed the shudder as she looked up at him. His bright blue eyes were turning yellow and she knew that he was already starting to change. The last night of the full moon was coming. She was running out of time. "They were just children," Matthew continued.

"You bred them to be killers!" Evan snapped. When he looked at her in surprise, she retorted. "Yeah, I read the journal. I know about Elizabeth. I know about the kids. And I know how your brothers have spent the past twenty years covering up for you!"

"What wouldn't you do for your family?" Dell asked her.

"I wouldn't let them live like this," she told him. "And I certainly couldn't watch them kill innocent people."

"Well lucky for you, you're not going to have to watch your sister," Matthew said. "Yes, I know who she is. You have similar scents."

"You know, this whole sniffing thing? Really gross," Evan advised him. "And another thing. You're not going to get Kit.

"Your sister is changing. She will come to me," Matthew told her smugly.

"Never going to happen. You might kill me, but she will never come to you," Evan snarled.

"We'll see. The moon is going to rise soon. She will be drawn to it. She will have an overpowering need to come to me. She will know that I am the only one who understands what she feels."

Evan wiggled her fingers at him in a "come here" gesture. Matthew Dupre smiled smugly and walked over to her, leaning down to her. "Never going to happen you son-of-a-bitch," she whispered. Matthew snarled at her and backhanded her. "I'm going to enjoy killing you," she muttered.

Walking away from her, Matthew said to his brother. "You better go now. I don't want you around when I change."

"I'll be back in the morning to help you clean up," Dell said to him. He looked at Evan and gave her a hearty smile. "Nice to see you again, Evangeline."

"I'm going to hurt you for that!" Evan shouted after him, rattling the chains.

Dean sped out of town towards the bayou. He glanced at the map that they had printed earlier and then tossed it on the seat beside him. He was almost upon the Thunderbird before he saw it. Slamming on the brakes, he slid onto the shoulder in front of it. Leaving the car running, he climbed out and ran back to Evan's car. Throwing open the door, he peered inside.

The keys were still in the ignition and nothing seemed to be missing. Looking into the back seat, he saw Evan's saber in the scabbard. If she'd been going to find the Were, she wouldn't have left without it. Slamming the door shut, he looked around the tree line and then around the road by the car. He frowned when he saw the tire tracks in the shoulder behind her car. Pulling out his phone, he called Sam who answered after the first ring.

"Did you find her?" Sam asked and Dean heard Kit in the background.

"I found her car. The keys are still in the ignition. And her saber is still here."

"She wouldn't go anywhere without that," Sam surmised.

"No, she wouldn't. Sam, I don't think she was alone here. There's another set of tire tracks and some foot steps right up to the car. And the ones going back to the car have a deeper impression, like there was extra weight on the way back."

"You think Dupre got to her, don't you?"

"I think one of them did. Just don't now which one yet," Dean said. "I'll call you when I find her." Flipping his phone closed, he grabbed Evan's saber from the back seat and went back to the Impala and climbed in. Pulling away from the shoulder, he stepped harder on the gas pedal. He had to get to the old Dupre plantation before Evan got herself hurt. "Damn crazy woman," he muttered, pushing the car harder.

"Did he find her?" Kit demanded from the bed.

"He found her car and her saber, but no Evan," Sam told her.

"Sam, you have to let me go. I have to find Evan," she pleaded softly.

"Kit, please try to understand. I can't let you out there," he answered. She murmured his name sadly, then bent her head to wipe the tear running down her cheek off onto her shoulder. Crouching down before her, he took her face in his hands and brushed her eyes gently with the pads of his thumbs. "Believe me, I can understand how you feel. My brother is out there, and I'm worried about him," Sam said softly.

"Sam, I said," she paused, her face paling, "I said some terrible things to Evan when she left. I don't want them to the be last things I say to her."

"They won't be," he assured her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. Kit leaned forward and laid her head on Sam's shoulder, feeling foolish. She shivered as she felt the warmth of him surround her and closed her eyes, sniffling softly. Her shiver grew as she inhaled. She could smell soap and the underlying scent, that male scent, that belonged to him. She nuzzled her nose against the side of his neck. She could hear the beat of his heart, heard it quicken just a little, felt her own respond. She inhaled the smell of him again and felt something deep within her grow tight. Turning her head slightly, she licked her lips and pressed them to the side of his neck. She could taste the salt of him on her lips, and the shudder grew.

"Kit?" Sam questioned her softly trying to stifle his own shiver at the touch of her lips on his neck.

"Yes Sam?" she asked him slowly, rubbing her nose up along the line of his jaw, feeling the stubble scrape against her skin.

"No," he said, his voice cracking slightly. The warmth of her body in his arms, the scent of her shampoo tugged at him.

"No what?" she asked him throatily. She parted her legs and slid her calves along the outside of his thighs as he crouched before her. Pulling herself closer to the edge of the bed, closer to him, she pressed a trail of soft, biting kisses along his jaw. She breathed deeply, then let out a soft groan.

"We can't do this Kit," he said softly. He took a deep breath to try and clear his head, but it didn't work. He had to get away from her, he thought.

"You don't really mean no, Sam," she said almost purring the words against his ear before catching his earlobe in her teeth.

"Kit, we can't," Sam said, but he couldn't make himself move. The throaty sound of her voice, the warmth of her, it made his head swim. He could feel the blood pounding in his veins.

"Why not?" she purred in his ear, before biting harder on his earlobe. "What's wrong with doing something we both want."

Sam shuddered, his breath coming roughly. "This isn't you," he stammered.

"Wrong baby," Kit wiggled closer to the edge of the bed, trailing her mouth along his jaw, biting softly at his chin. "I'm finally taking what I want." Tightening her calves against Sam's hips, Kit slid herself off of the edge of the bed and used her body to push Sam off balance. He landed on his back and she quickly straddled him, holding her knees tightly against his hips. She felt him move beneath her and lowered herself against him.

"Kit, this isn't what I want," Sam said grasping her hips, trying to move her off of him, but she held tightly.

"Mmm Sammy," she moaned low in her throat, circling her hips against him. "You're a terrible liar." Kit lowered herself over him, rubbing her body against him as she traced the tip of her tongue up along the side of her neck to his ear. "I can smell it on you." She breathed deeply, her eyes flaring. "I can smell your arousal. You smell like lust."

She ground her hips slowly against him, rubbed the hard points of her nipples against his chest. She pulled at the chains, straining to touch him. "You like seeing me like this," she growled softly. "I can smell your sweat. Full of lust and fear. Almost good enough to eat." She sat up and looked down at him, her hips still rocking slowly against him.

"Oh god," Sam groaned softly despite himself.

"Come here Sammy. I promise not to bite. Hard," she said softly just before she opened her mouth and quickly lowered her head.

Sam saw the brief flare of yellow in her eyes as she tried to bite at him. He threw up his hands and grabbed at her shoulders. He quickly rolled over and pinned her to the motel floor. "Okay, time for plan B."

_**Chapter Eighteen**_

Dean glanced at the map and slowed, looking for the road into the Plantation. Not too far up the road, he saw the white Tahoe with the police crest emblazoned on the side parked off to the side of the road. He swore under his breath and pulled off the road and shut the engine off. Reaching into the back seat, he grabbed his machete and Evan's saber and then paused. He reached over to unlock the glove compartment and pulled out one of his pistols.

Climbing out of the car, he slung the scabbard over his shoulder and tucked the large knife into the back of his belt. He followed the foot steps along the roughly beaten path. They were indented like the ones at Evan's car, and he didn't see a smaller set that would indicate that Evan walked in under her own power. "I'm gonna kill her," he muttered and took off at a jog over the path. He watched the ground carefully, following the foot steps, but the sky was darkening and the path was getting harder to follow.

When he lost the track, he stopped and pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and turned it on. Swinging it over the ground, he found it once again and was about to start following it again when he heard a noise. Quickly dousing the light he stood still, listening to the sounds around him.

Whatever it was, it was coming at a slow pace. Not bounding through the foliage like the Weres had the night before. When he heard the soft whistling, Dean moved carefully to the side of a tree. Reaching down, he felt for a fallen branch and stood ready. As the figure approached, Dean tightened his grip on the branch. He held his breath and then swung the heavy piece of wood as hard as he could, catching the man in the chest.

With a cry of surprise and pain, he went down and Dean stepped around the tree and placed one booted foot against his throat and pulled his gun out, cocking it and pointing it at him.

"Well, if it isn't the boyfriend," Dell Dupre choked out.

"Where is she?" Dean demanded.

"My brother's planning to have her for dinner," Dell laughed weakly.

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered, then reached down to pull the sheriff's handcuffs from the pouch on his belt. Taking one hand, he slapped the cuff around the man's wrist then kicked him over and wrenched his arm back painfully to lock his other one. He patted the sheriff down for weapons, relieving him of his service pistol, which he verified was loaded before tucking it into his jacket pocket. Opening up another pouch on his belt he found the Tazer. He sparked it for a second then tucked it into his other jacket pocket. "Is this what you used on Evan?"

"Girl went out like a light," the Sheriff sneered at him.

"On your feet," Dean ordered roughly.

Dell struggled to his feet and then turned to glare at Dean. "What do you think you're going to do boy?"

"First off, you're going to take me to your brother. I'm going to get Evan and then just for shits and giggles, we're going to put your brother out of his misery. I still haven't figured out what we're going to do with you. Maybe I'll let Evan have a go at you. Now move it." Dean waved the gun at the sheriff and then nudged him in the back with the barrel.

"No one's going to believe you. And taking a sheriff hostage is gonna get you into a pile of shit you ain't gonna be able to get out of."

"By the time you get free, we're going to be long gone," Dean told him. They walked in silence for a while, Dean keeping his eye on the rising moon. He was running out of time.

When the house loomed into sight, Dean was never so glad to see the dilapidated frame. He pushed the sheriff towards the door and then pushed him up what was left of the veranda. The vines and other foliage of the bayou had taken hold of the rotting wood and was slowly devouring the house.

"Where is Evan?" Dean hissed at the sheriff as he gave the man a shove inside the doors.

"Look at the moon, boy. Your girl's probably dead by now," Dell sneered.

"Not my girl," Dean assured him. "Now, where is she?" The sheriff looked up at him with a bland look on his face, refusing to speak. "Fine," Dean said sharply and then struck the man on the back of the head, watching him fall to the floor. "I'll find her myself." Eyeing the floor carefully for any possible weak spots Dean pulled out his flashlight and flipped it on. Carefully skirting the perimeter of the room, his pistol held out before him, his flashlight crossed over top, he went off in search of Evan.

Keeping her attention focused on Matthew as he sat writing at his makeshift desk across the room, Evan glanced up at the manacles around her wrists. They were made of wide, thick wrought iron, but the pin in them was fairly new. She stretched her fingers as much as she could, but couldn't reach the head of the pin. Curling her fingers around the thick chain, she relaxed her legs and let herself hang on the chains, hoping that it would be enough to maybe pull them from the ceiling beam. They wouldn't budge.

"It's almost time," Matthew said from acres the room without looking at her. "Right about now your sister should be feeling the pull of the moon. She'll be here soon."

"I keep telling you, it isn't going to happen," Evan said. "She's got Sam. You seriously think she's going to want you?"

"She won't be able to help herself," he assured her.

"Whatever," Evan told him dismissively. Glancing around she tried to focus, but the light of the candle across the room didn't penetrate to where she was. When she heard Matthew's first groan of pain, her eyes widened. She cursed under her breath when he stood up, knocking his chair over. Her heart sped up when she saw him fall to his hands and knees. His body hunched in pain and she heard the tear of his clothes. "Oh shit," she muttered.

Holding the chains tight, she let herself hang from the chains again, throwing her weight around to see if they would loosen. She kept an eye on Matthew and saw him throw his head back as his jaw began to thrust out. She heard his howl of pain, heard his bones crack as they reshaped themselves. She caught her breath and felt the fear rise within her. Letting go of one chain, she tried to swing her body, reaching up to grab at the chain higher. Catching it, she swung the other way and slowly crawled herself up the chain. When she was high enough, she swung her body until she upended and braced her feet against the beams, pushing against it to try and move the hooks. "Come on, let go!" she yelled in anger and desperation, pushing harder against the beams. She twisted her body enough to be able to see Matthew.

Matthew Dupre sat back on his heels and threw back his head to howl loudly. Evan shuddered at the sound.

_**Chapter Nineteen**_

Kit sat on the bed and watched Sam with an unwavering stare that he had to admit made him uneasy. As it got darker and the moon began to rise, he saw her eyes change from deep violet to glaring yellow. Her breath had become shallow and rapid. A flush suffused her skin and small beads of sweat had broken out over her brow and upper lip. Her features had started to change a little. Her jaw line filled out a little and he could swear that her canine teeth had grown longer.

"Never figured you for the kinky stuff Sammy," she purred at him, tugging at the cuffs at her wrists and the rope around her ankles.

"Don't make me have to knock you out," Sam said, and laid his hand on the tranquillizer gun sitting on the table beside him

"Well, you can if you want, but wouldn't it be more fun if we're both playing? Come on Sammy, it'll be so good," she coaxed softly, staring him down. She pulled harder on the cuffs. His scent was tempting, she felt her muscles tighten within her as the craving grew. Part of her tried to push it away, but it was too strong. "Sam, what's happening to me?"

"It will be over soon," Sam assured her, hoping that he was right.

Kit shifted uncomfortably on the bed. Peering out of the window, she could see the moon riding high in the sky. The pull of it was almost tangible. Her heart sped up, beating painfully in her chest. Her blood felt as though it were boiling under her skin. She tugged restlessly at the cuffs at her wrists. Folding her fingers in on each other, she twisted her wrist and felt her hand slide out of the cuff a little. She kept her eyes on Sam as she worked her wrist out of the cuff.

Sam leaned forward on his chair and rubbed his hands through his hair. Upon seeing the time on his watch, he was growing frustrated. Dean should have found Evan by now and called. He started to pace.

"It's going to be too late soon Sam," Kit said from the bed.

"No it's not," he assured her, trying to keep his voice steady.

"You're lying," she stated. "I can smell your fear. You're worried that they're not going to be able to do it."

"No I'm not," he denied.

"I am," she said.

"Kit," he began, turning to face her.

With her hands free, Kit reached for the rope at her ankles and pulled one foot free. Sam darted towards the table and reached for the tranquillizer gun. Kit rolled onto her knees and pushed herself off the bed. Her body collided with Sam and pushed him against the wall.

Sam caught at Kit's hands, but she was stronger than he expected. She broke one hand free and pressed it against his throat. With heavy pants, she nuzzled her nose against the side of his neck.

"Kit, don't do this," he wheezed. "Please."

It was the please that stopped her. She froze and looked at him. His eyes were huge with fear and full of sorrow. In them, she saw her own manic expression reflected and forced herself to release his neck, stepping back towards the door. "I can't live like this Sam," she whispered.

"Kit, don't," he pleaded, wheezing as he caught his breath, but she turned and threw open the door and ran out into the parking lot.

Dean made his way through the main floor of the house with no sign of Evan. He was about to head up the stairs to check out the upper level when he heard the howling. He trained his ears to the sound and followed. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and listened intently. Looking around he found an alcove at the side of the stairs and noticed a sliver of weak light coming from the bottom of one of the rotting side panels on the wall. Going over to it, he nudged it with his foot and part of it crumbled. Inside he just barely made out the shape of a set of stairs leading down into darkness.

Tucking his gun into the back of his jeans, he set his flashlight down and began pulling on the rotting wood until the hole was just large enough to allow him to squeeze through. As his eyes adjusting to the dim light, he carefully made his way down the stairs. He paused when he heard a female voice above the roar of the Were. Pulling out his gun, he went down the stairs, the voices and howling growing louder with each step he took.

Evan craned her head around and looked at Matthew on the floor. His body contorted sharply and coarse brown fur quickly began to cover his body. She swore sharply and dropped her body down. The chains were not going to budge from the beams. Panting heavily, she watched as Matthew Dupre gave his body a shake, the remnants of his clothes falling to the ground. She shivered as the Were lifted his large head and pierced her with his eerie yellow eyes. His lip curled and he let out an angry roar, his teeth shining in the candlelight. "Oh boy," she muttered.

The Were took a few steps towards her and snarled. Evan tried to maintain control, but she was scared shitless. Her body tensed as she waited for the attack. She tightened her fingers on the chain and stared at the Were. When it lunged forward, she pulled herself up and swung her feet up and at the Were's head as it came at her. She knocked it off its stride and it skidded to the side, a loud, frustrated growl escaping it. Tensing herself again, she waited while it shook its head. She wasn't going to be able to keep it up for long, she knew. "Where's the Cavalry when I need it?"

Dean paused at the bottom of the stairs and peered into the large room that it opened up into. He felt a moment of fear when he saw the large Were shake its body. He watched almost in amazement as it turned and glared at something across the room. Moving slowly, he leaned forward and saw what it was staring at, and felt his heart fall when he saw Evan strung up in the chains. He jumped when it started at her, and then slid to a stop when she kicked the Were in the muzzle. It slid to a stop in front of him and he reared back. The Were, it's attention focused on Evan, didn't see or hear him.

With the Were between him and Evan, Dean was hesitant to take a shot at it in case he missed. He smiled slightly and then reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the Tazer gun. Flipping it on, he aimed it at the Were's back and quickly pulled the trigger. The small dart like electrodes shot out and stuck into the Were's back. It howled in pain as electricity suddenly shot through its body, stunning it enough to make it fall flat on the ground.

"Someone call for the Cavalry?" He asked Evan with a cocky smile as he pulled out his gun and made his way around the large creature.

"Dean!" Evan cried in relief. "It's about damn time. Get me down from here."

"Your gratitude is overwhelming," he said to her.

"You're mah hero," she said in her best southern belle voice. "Now get me down from here." Shaking his head, Dean reached up and pulled the pin from the manacle and pulled it apart enough for her to slip her wrist out. Once he'd freed the other one, she rubbed her raw wrists. Then out of sheer relief, she threw herself at him and hugged him.

For a moment, Dean wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. "Now who's the special idiot?" he asked her.

"I am," she admitted with a smile.

"Time to end this," he told her, reaching his arm back and pulled the saber out of it's scabbard.

They heard the snarl from behind them and turned to look at the Were. They tensed and watched as it rose quickly to its feet. When it raised its head and sniffed the air then turned and bounded up the stairs, they watched it in shock for a moment.

Evan growled in anger and grabbed the saber from Dean. "You're not getting away from us this time Chewbacca," she yelled and followed it, Dean right behind her.

_**Chapter Twenty**_

Kit ran through the woods towards the house, following the scent of the Were. It called to her, drew her as strongly as the pull of the moon. She ignored the pain of the branched striking her as she ran. She had stolen a car from the motel parking lot and tore up the highway towards the bayou. She had driven past Evan's car and sped up. When she saw the police truck and Dean's car, she had skidded to a stop on the shoulder and climbed out of the car.

She heard the howl of the Were and run in that direction. She paused in one spot as familiar scents, Dean's and Evan's, caught her attention. She frowned when she picked up another scent, but it also carried with it one that was familiar to her. The scent of the Were. She was on the right track. She picked up speed as she ran, not worried about the terrain. She could almost see it in her mind's eye as she ran, telling her where to step before she did. Her breath came in short gasps and a painful stitch formed in her side, but she pushed herself on. When she came to the house, she ran towards it and threw open the front door. She stopped in the doorway, breathing heavily. Weak light filtered in through what was left of the vine covered windows. Forcing herself into the house, she shuddered.

This was where they lived. The three of them. Away from the world, hidden deep in the bayou in a decrepit house with no power. She could smell the death and decay. They had brought their prey here. She felt nauseous. She couldn't live like this. She just couldn't. She heard its howl and forced herself to stand still, waiting for it to come to her.

Sam parked the car that he had stolen from the motel parking lot and scrambled out of it. He grabbed the shotgun from the motel room and had taken off after Kit. Slinging the shotgun over his shoulder, he ran through the foliage, trying to follow the sounds of her running ahead of him. "Kit!" He shouted after her, but she didn't stop. Sam pushed himself to run faster. His chest burned with the lack of oxygen, but he ignored it. He pumped his legs harder, trying to pick his way through the dark, trying not to lose sight of Kit. When he heard the howl, he forced himself to run faster.

The Were broke through the rest of the panel and bounded into the hall. It stopped and raised its head, catching the scent of her. With a howl it padded its way up the hall to the entryway. The haze of bloodlust began to fade from its gaze as it made its way towards her. When it saw her standing in the doorway, it stopped. Hearing another breath, it turned its head slightly, growling when it saw the body laying on the floor. Its familiar scent stopped its growl. It focused its attention on her again, walking towards her slowly. It started to growl as it caught another scent on her.

Evan and Dean ran through the wall and up the hallway. They stopped when they saw Kit standing in the doorway, the moonlight behind her. The Were padded its way towards her, its growl barely audible.

"Kit," Evan breathed in dismay, waving her sister away. "No. Stay away from it."

"It's okay Evan. It won't hurt me. It wants me."

"It can't have you," she hissed.

"She's got that right," Sam said, stepping up behind her. The Were growled loudly as Sam came closer to her. Its anger rose as it recognized the scent of him.

"I don't think it likes you Sam," Dean said to his brother.

"Don't really care," Sam replied, raising the shot gun at the Were, his arm curling around Kit's waist and pulling her to his side.

"Evan," Dean nudged her and she looked at him. He waved his hand towards the stairs. She nodded and gripped the hilt of her saber, taking a step towards the stairs and around its back.

"Sam, push it towards Evan," Dean told him, working his way around the other side of the Were. The Were suddenly snarled and turned its head towards Dean. Evan screamed as it suddenly charged at him. Dean tried to move out of its way, but its muzzle caught him and pushed him down to the floor. Sam fired the shot gun at the Were, seeing it's body jerk as it the force of the pellets stopped it briefly.

Without thinking Evan ran at the Were, the saber raised. She screamed in anger, fear and pain as she saw Dean laying on the floor motionless. She brought it down, the blade whistling through the air. Hearing the whistle of the blade, the Were turned and swung its large paw at Evan, knocking her legs out from under her. She fell to the floor with a cry of pain and surprise. The saber clattered on the wood and skidded away from her. The Were was on her, its paws pinning her shoulders to the floor. Evan could feel its hot breath on her face as it lowered its muzzle and snarled at her.

Sam left Kit's side and ran over to Dean. "Dean, man are you okay?"

"I want that thing dead," Dean grunted. He looked around at the Were and paled. "Evan!"

"Oh shit!" Sam swore, helping Dean to his feet.

Kit looked at the Were as it stood over her sister. Her anger and fear over what it was turning her into surged to the surface. She heard her sister's cry of pain as the weight of the Were bore down on her. Evan struggled beneath the weight of it, trying to pull herself free.

Bending down, Kit picked up her sister's saber and stood beside the Were. "Get off of her you bastard!" She growled and when it brought its head up to look at her, its eyes widened for a moment. Kit closed her eyes and brought the saber down. Evan clenched her eyes shut and winced as she heard the blade. Sam turned his head as he heard the blade strike. Dean walked over and pushed the Were's still body off of Evan and kneeled down beside her.

'That's how it's done," Kit said softly before the saber fell from her nerveless fingers and she collapsed into darkness.

_**Chapter Twenty One**_

Kit woke up the next morning and frowned as she saw the lanky stranger sitting in the chair at the foot of the bed. On the table beside him was a large black medical bag. She sat up, pulling the blanket up around her. "Um, excuse me? Who the hell are you?"

"This is Dr. Dupre," Evan said from where she sat on the other bed. She'd been waiting nervously for Kit to wake up.

"Um, sis? Isn't he the coroner? And his brother.." she trailed off.

"A coroner is still a doctor," he told her with a faint smile. "And yes, my brother was the one that infected you."

"So pardon my French, but why the hell are you here?"

"I asked him to come Sis," Evan said. "I wanted to make sure that you were okay."

"Do you have any of the symptoms still? The sensitivity to light, smell or sound?" Joseph asked her.

Kit paused. She focused on the room around her. There were familiar scents, but not nearly as overwhelming as they'd been. The sunlight from the nearby window didn't sear her eyes and make them water, and her ears didn't ring with every subtle sound. "No, they're gone," she breathed a sigh of relief.

"That's a blessing," he said softly. "The wounds on your face and arms will heal up in a few days. They're just superficial ones from the tree branches. I'm going to give you a sheet of exercises for you to do to keep your leg muscles from stiffening," he told her, he then looked at Evan. "Just put that ointment I gave you on your wrists and the scrapes and redness will go away."

"Thank you Joseph," Evan said with a small smile.

When they had gotten back from the Plantation house, the doctor had been waiting for them. When he had seen Kit, he had immediately taken charge. He had then looked at Evan's raw wrists, and gave Dean a once over despite his protestations.

"Sis, you rest now," Evan said, leaning over and kissing the top of her head. She smiled at her sister and then rose from the bed to walk the doctor to the door. Kit watched her sister for a moment before laying back down and closing her eyes. "I'm sorry about your brother," Evan told Joseph as they stood outside the door. "I wish it hadn't had to come to that."

"My brother died a long time ago. The beast in him was all that was left," he sighed softly. "I'm actually relieved. I don't have to cover for him any more. I don't have to see the carnage he leaves behind."

"What about Dell? He's not quite as understanding," Evan gave him a small smile. When Dell had woken and saw Matthew dead, he had been quite vocal about his anger.

"I'll handle Dell, although it might not be a bad idea for ya'll to leave town as soon as possible."

"Don't worry Doc, we're gonna be leaving soon," Sam said as he and Dean walked towards them.

"Have a safe journey. Wherever it takes you," Joseph said to them before walking over to his car and climbing in.

"Is Kit awake?" Sam asked Evan. She smiled at the almost eager look on his face.

"Yeah. She's awake. And she's going to be fine. Go on in."

Sam opened the motel room door and went in to see Kit. He found her sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling a t-shirt over her head. She looked up at him and smiled softly.

"Sam, I am so sorry," she said immediately. "For the way I behaved. If I hurt you, I didn't mean to."

"I know Kit," he told her softly, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her. "I don't mind telling you though that you scared me."

"I was scaring myself," she admitted to him. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No," he shrugged his shoulders. "Just don't do it again," a smile touching his boyish face.

"I won't. I promise," she smiled and laid her head on his shoulder and smiled, feeling content now that her world was back to normal.

Evan leaned against the side of her car, staring down at her feet. She avoided looking up at Dean as he stood beside her. When she looked out of the corner of her eye at him, she felt her heart stop in her chest when she saw the grimace on his face when he moved slightly. Tears stung at her eyes.

While she had been watching over Kit, and Joseph had been tending to Dean's injuries, she had tried not to think about what had happened in that house. She tried to block out of her mind the sight of him being struck by the Were. Something that might not have happened before he met them. And she knew herself that she wouldn't have rushed the Were like she had before she met him. She found herself acting more rashly when she was around him.

"We got new coordinates from our father. Looks like we're heading to New York to check out a nasty spook. You and Kit are welcome to tag along," he said negligently.

"We can't," she said, then paused. "I can't. I can't do this anymore Dean."

"Do what? Hunting?"

"No. This. You and me. I can't be around you," she said bluntly.

"What are you talking about?" Dean stood in front of her, he put his hands on her shoulders and looked down at her. Evan stubbornly refused to look up, keeping her eyes closed as the tears stung her eyes. Dean pushed her chin up and forced her to look at him. "Evan look at me." Evan wiped the tears from her eyes and took a deep breath before looking at him. "What do you mean you can't be around me? I thought we got along pretty good."

"We do. But that's the problem," she said miserably.

"I don't see that as a problem," he said in confusion.

"Dean, this thing between us," she shook her head. "It's good. It's so good," she emphasized, then paused, not knowing how to explain herself. "But we can't do it anymore."

"Why the hell not?" Dean demanded.

"Because it's making us stupid and careless Dean," she said suddenly. Reaching out, she touched the bandage on his head and then looked down at the bulge of the bandage that she could see from his shirt where one of his ribs had been cracked. "Admit it. Before you met me, would you have been hurt like this?"

"I have before, probably will again. It's the nature of our business, Evan. We get hurt."

"But not because we were stupid. I rushed that damn thing last night because it hit you!" She took a deep breath, her heart catching in her chest again as the vision played in her head again. She tried to shake it loose.

"So it's my fault that you rushed it?"

"No, it was my fault. I wasn't thinking. I can't think straight when I'm around you," she said weakly, her throat closing up as she tried to fight the sob that was clawing at her chest. She saw the anger on his face and felt a stab at her chest.

Dean looked at Evan, and shook his head. "That's bullshit. If you're scared, at least have the decency to admit it."

"I'm scared Dean," she admitted.

"Get over it," he snapped. He saw the stricken look on her face and stopped. Pushing her head up higher, he lowered his mouth to hers. Evan felt a rush of need and desire run through her at the warmth of his lips. She found herself opening to him. "You want this just as much," he whispered to her.

"Yes, I do," she admitted.

"It's not going to be easy Evan, but we just keep our time together separate from our hunting," he said logically.

"I don't know if I can do that," she told him.

"So what are you really saying? That we can't work together at all?"

"Chances are we are going to work together again Dean. When we do. It has to be business," she said firmly, more for herself than anything else.

Dean clenched his jaw in anger. Looking out over the parking lot, he forced himself to calm his breathing. "Fine Sweetheart, if that's the way you want it," he said coldly as he turned away. "Business it is."

"Dean," Evan sobbed, holding her hand out. She wanted to take it all back, every word. But his rigid stance as he stood by the car told her that it was too late.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted as he stood by the Impala, resolutely turned away from Evan. "Sammy we gotta go!"

Sam came out of the motel room, Kit following behind him, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "What's the rush?" he asked his brother as he came over.

"Get in the car Sam. We have to go," Dean told him and climbed into the car.

"Dean?" am looked in at his brother and found him staring blankly out the windshield. He turned and looked at Evan, standing at her car, wiping at her eyes. Sam looked at Kit who frowned at her sister. "I guess we're going," he said to her.

Kit went over to the car and gave him a hug and kissed his cheek. "We'll be right behind you. We just have to check out," she said to him. Sam had told her about the message from their father and had asked Kit and Evan to come along with them. Kit had agreed, wanting to spend more time with Sam.

"Let's go Sam!" Dean grunted from the front seat. Sam ignored his brother and gave Kit a soft kiss, then climbed into the car. Dean started the car, then threw it into gear and peeled out of the parking lot.

"What's wrong Evan?" Kit asked her sister seeing the look on her face.

"Nothing," she replied, climbing into the car. "We're already checked out."

"Good, let's get out of this town," Kit said with a shudder. It was going to be a long time before she would want to come back to New Orleans.

Evan started the car and pulled out of the parking lot turning in the opposite direction that Sam and Dean had taken.

"Evan? Sam and Dean went that way," Kit pointed in the other direction.

"We're not going with them," Evan said simply staring out the windshield.

"I thought we were going to New York with them,"Kit said, confused.

"Yeah well, plan's changed. We're not going to New York."

"Evan, what's wrong?" Kit asked her sister.

"Nothing," Evan repeated simply. She forced herself to breath deeply, her heart tightening as each mile clicked by taking her just a little further from where she wanted to be.


End file.
